The Second Black: Her Second Year
by DwellInDreams1019
Summary: Sequel to Harry Potter: The Second Black, but you do NOT have to read the 1st! Join Lydia Black, daughter of the infamous prisoner Sirius Black, in her second year at Hogwarts with her best friend Harry Potter! CoS plot & building up to some pairings :
1. Harry and Lydia's Worst Day Ever

**Introducing…Lydia's second year!**

**For those that don't know, I'm Erin. I'm 16 and a sophomore in high school. And this is the sequel to my original story Harry Potter: The Second Black, which followed the story of the first year of my beautiful Black, the only daughter of the infamous Sirius Black. This story follows her second year :)**

**Like I said in the summary, you DON'T have to read the 1****st**** one to know what's happening in this story, cause I'm basically going to sum it up within the first few chapters. I really hope you all enjoy this story! It's most likely going to be shorter than all the sequels I'm going to write because (1) I care about CoS the least even though I adore it, and (2) I really wanna get to book 3! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! But I do own Lydia ;)**

Chapter 1  
>Harry and Lydia's Worst Day Ever<p>

"Wakey, wakey, my bestest friend in the whole wide world!"

I pounced on top of a small black haired boy who lay asleep in the bed next to mine. He wouldn't be asleep for long with my help!

"Harry, Harry, wakey! Today is special! Today is your twelve birthday! You've got absolutely no presents, but that's ok, because you've got me! Wake up, Potter!"

My best friend, Harry Potter, woke slowly with a growing grin, pushing me off of him. He seized his round glasses from the nightstand and placed them crookedly over his emerald green eyes. Messing up his already untidy black hair, he pushed himself off the bed with effort. Normally, he was up long before me on an average day but I had woken myself up early today to wish him a happy birthday.

"Morning, Lydia," he greeted me with a yawn. "Shall we?" he offered. I took his hand and we tramped down the stairs to the kitchen where I knew the dreaded Dursley family would be waiting. And sure enough when we arrived, the Dursleys (Harry's pig-like aunt, uncle and cousin—my foster "family", if you could call them that) made no acknowledgement of our presence and no effort of kindness, like usual. Harry and I were used to this.

Vernon was the first to speak—more accurately, yell—at us. "Will you two control those bloody owls of yours! Third time this week they've caused a ruckus in the middle of the night!"

"They're bored! They need to stretch their wings! Then maybe they'll stop—"Harry began, but he was interrupted by his repugnant uncle.

"Oh no, I know what will happen if those owls get let out!" Vernon snapped. "Do I look stupid?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to answer that?" Vernon glared at me just as his son, Dudley, let out a gigantic long burp. I scrunched up my nose. "That's disgusting, Dudley," I commented in revulsion. He merely bit off another piece of bacon and smirked at me. I hated that large, revolting, stupid pig. Luckily, as much as he attempted to act otherwise, he was terrified of me.

"Pass the frying pan," Dudley ordered rather rudely to Harry. Harry could barely refrain from rolling his eyes.

"You've forgotten the magic word," Harry said irritably. Now, normally this would have been a simple expression—something that teachers and parents will use to teach their children manners—perfectly normal. Not in this house.

It was like a time bomb had gone off. Dudley gasped, falling straight out of his chair and onto the pristinely cleaned floor. His mother, Petunia, gave a small scream, and her husband's face had turned a deep shade of purple.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?" Vernon bellowed. I rolled my eyes, getting ready to stick up for my best friend.

"Bloody hell, calm _down_! He meant please! Jeez!" I cried.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY?" Vernon continued to scream, as if I hadn't spoken.

"Excuse me? I think it went the opposite way around," I broke in again.

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"

"You're calling _us_ abnormal?" I commented.

"AND WILL _YOU _SHUT UP?" he directed his attention towards me, shouting now in my direction instead of Harry's. I didn't even flinch. Instead, I raised an eyebrow and smirked indifferently.

"Not likely. By the way, _magic_! Magic, magic, Hogwarts—I'm going to Hogwarts, my _magical _school where we learn _magic_!"

I barked out a dog-like laugh and then bolted from the kitchen, knowing Vernon would be chasing after me by the color of his face and his expression—he was furious. Which meant that I had done my job. The Dursleys despised any mention of mine and Harry's kind. What's that you ask?

We were magic, in a simple matter. I am a witch and Harry is a wizard. For most of our lives we hadn't had a clue about this bit of information—the great muggles (non magic folks) of Dursleys had "forgotten" to mention it. It wasn't until last summer when a large but gentle half-giant named Hagrid knocked down our front door and handed us two letters that would alter our lives forever. Now, I couldn't imagine my life without that enchanted first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

I wasn't related to the Dursley's in any way possible—thank god! It was a twist of unfortunate luck that I got placed here with Harry. Not that I wasn't grateful that I had the chance to grow up with Harry—the boy I consider my brother in every way but blood and wouldn't give up for anything in the world. In fact, it was rather unlucky that we _both_ ended up here.

Harry's parents were dead. Murdered by an evil wizard named Lord Voldemort. Voldemort (more commonly called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who) hunted Harry when he was merely a baby. On Halloween night of 1981, Voldemort arrived at their door, looking for Harry. His parents—Lily and James Potter—sacrificed themselves for their son. When Voldemort had moved onto Harry, his mother's love protected him and caused the destruction of Voldemort. Harry was left with only a thin lightning shaped scar on his forehead. But Voldemort still wasn't gone; Harry had faced him just last year and defeated him once again! Harry was rather famous in the wizarding world, and I had a feeling his fame was only going to grow.

As for me, I am the daughter of a murderer. I hadn't a clue who my parents were until last year. I discovered that my father is Sirius Black, a highly secured prisoner at the wizard prison Azkaban. 11 years ago, he killed a street full of muggles along with one wizard. And this isn't what bothered me most. The award for that went to the fact that I apparently look and act exactly like him. I hear the phrase 'you look like your father, but have your mother's eyes' almost as much as Harry does! In the case of my mother—well, I had no idea who she is. I'm not allowed or supposed to see her or something; I don't even get. But I longed to meet her every day of my life—as well as my father. I didn't care who he was; I still needed to meet him…

I believed people when they told me I looked like my father. How was I not to; I didn't know what he looked like! My hair was long, black as night and wavy; my skin was practically as white as chalk; I was considered incredibly beautiful though I was only 11 (almost 12)—three apparent qualities of the Black family, the oldest pureblood family in the wizarding world. Of course, I wasn't a pureblood. I had learned last year that my mother was a muggle-born, making me half-blood. I was said to have my mother's eyes; they were a deep, dark, rich chocolate brown.

I've worn a single necklace every day since the day I was born. It was a simple necklace—the chain was shiny silver and the pendant on the end was a black dog with diamond eyes that shone as brightly as the sun. It glittered as if it was brand new although it was as old as I was (11, nearly 12)! On the back read three things: my full name (Lydia Andromeda Black), my birth date (September 5, 1980) and what I'm pretty sure are my parents initials (S. Black & S. Black).

Besides being the daughter of a murderer, growing up with a family of Muggles I had absolutely nothing to do with and being the best friend to the Boy Who Lived, I had one particularly unique feature about myself. I am a Metamorphmagus; a very rare type witch or wizard that can change their appearance at will. Usually when I get angry, my hair will uncontrollably fade to a deep, bright red. I hadn't exactly mastered the skill of it yet, but it was useful to have.

Both Harry and I longed to be back into the wizarding world. Everything about it was better than our life with the Muggles. I missed my other best friends Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ron's twin brothers Fred and George and my cousin, Jason Ericson. I also missed my other friends such as Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Blaise Zabini and of course, Hagrid. Well, clearly none of them felt the same, seeing as they hadn't written Harry or me all summer. I craved to see the colors of my House Gryffindor (majestic red and gold), fly on my broomstick (I was the Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team), drink pumpkin juice everyday and even to sit in Professor Binns' boring History of Magic class! …Ok, maybe not the last one.

I had managed to escape Vernon Dursley mostly because I was thin and quick and he was a great lump that couldn't run if his life depended on it. When I was positive it was safe, I strolled back into the kitchen, waiting for my chance to irritate the Dursleys even more.

"Now as we all know," Vernon spoke loudly, clearing his throat, "today is a very important day." I saw Harry look up in complete shock. I was quite surprised as well. He couldn't actually mean he remembered (or cared about) Harry's birthday, could he? "This could be the day I make the biggest deal of my career." I groaned loudly, annoyed. All three of the Dursleys shot daggers at me with their expressions. I could honestly care less.

"_Wow_, _wonderful_, Dursley," I sarcastically complimented him. "Well, while you're dealing with your _amazing_ business dinner, I'll be somewhere where you're not _celebrating your nephew's birthday_. Honestly," I shot at them in disgust. Harry tried not to smile. "Come on, Harry." Harry immediately followed me, glad to get away from the Dursleys, who all looked besides themselves in rage. Once again, I had successfully done my job.

"Thanks for that," Harry said, grinning at me. "Though, something tells me we're not joining in on dinner tonight." I shrugged with a smirk.

"Not like we were going to anyway," I responded, with a laugh. As we stepped out the back door, I nudged him with my elbow. "Didja see the look on his face, the great prune? You'd think they'd learn to ignore me by now, but no, every time they—what the heck is that?"

"What?" Harry questioned curiously. I stared intently at the hedges. Something was there! Or at least it had been there. I shook my head, moving to sit on the patio bench with Harry.

"I thought I just saw—nevermind."

It was a hot summer day. The sun blazed overhead. Under the shade of the garden bench, it was just the right temperature; not too cool and not too hot. Harry and I rested our heads on each other, both lost in our own thoughts. Though we had each other, it was still lonely here.

"I just don't understand why they haven't written," I broke the silence with a sigh. "Ron was going to invite us to stay and everything."

"I don't either. Maybe Dudley's right—maybe we haven't got friends at Hogwarts…" Harry trailed off sadly.

"Don't say that! Of course we've got friends there…they just aren't acting like it, that's all," I scolded him, slightly bitterly. "Especially after they got that glimpse of what the Muggles are like at King's Cross. Just imagine what Hermione'd say when she learned they locked up our homework." Harry half heartedly smiled, recalling Hermione's work ethical ways of life.

Concentrating extremely hard, I pictured Hermione's face in my mind and imagined myself as her. A tingling all over my head erupted, like goosebumps when you get the chills; I could tell that my face now resembled Hermione's. "The _nerve_ of that awful family, locking away your homework! Don't they understand you two could get detention—or worse, _expelled_,_" _I mocked, imitating her voice. Harry cracked up, as did I.

"You've been practicing!" Harry commented, referring to my Metamorphmagus abilities. Unfortunately, I couldn't hold someone else's appearance for very long and almost immediately after I halted my concentration, the tingling on my face indicated that I had returned to my normal features—but not before Dudley had seen.

Dudley ran screaming. "MUUUM! She's doing it again! You-know-what!"

"You've got to be kidding me," I said, skeptically. Our next few hours consisted of doing all of Petunia's cleaning chores while she created her precious pudding for her dinner guests. It wasn't until nearly 7 that my best friend and I were permitted to come into the house. We stomped immediately upstairs to the room we shared.

I had just managed to get into the room before I was stopped, for someone—something—stood on Harry's bed. It was something I had never seen before! It was a little creature with ears like bats, giant green eyes and a long pointed nose. Its only clothing was what appeared to be a ratty, filthy pillowcase. It seemed to take no notice in me whatsoever, but gazed at Harry adoringly.

"Harry Potter!" it squeaked in a high-pitched voice, much louder than we would have liked considering we were supposed to be pretending like we didn't exist.

"Friend of yours?" I asked Harry.

"Erm—I have no idea," he answered nervously. "Um, sorry, but—who are you?"

"What are you is a better question?" I muttered under my breath. The creature did not hear, but Harry still stomped on my foot, hard.

"Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf," the creature replied and bowed low to the ground. "It's an honor to meet you Harry Potter, sir. So long have I wanted to…"

"Th-thank you," Harry stuttered. "Look, not that I'm not pleased to meet you, Dobby, but now's really not the best time for us to have a house-elf in our bedroom. I don't want to sound rude, but is there a reason you're here?" Dobby nodded eagerly.

"Oh, yes, sir!" the house-elf exclaimed, once again way too loudly. "Dobby wonders where to begin…"

"Sit down," Harry offered politely. This apparently, was a mistake. Dobby burst into loud tears, sobbing, "_Sit down? Never…never ever…"_

I tried to shush him, but I could not be heard over the elf's sobs. "I didn't mean to offend you or anything—"

"Offend Dobby! Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard before—like an _equal_—" Dobby cried. I flinched.

"Look, er, Dobby—Lydia, by the way—we need to keep v_ery_ quiet, okay? We would really appreciate it if you were, er, quieter," I said to the elf, trying to be as polite as possible. I did not want to set him off again. Dobby nodded apologetically, wiping his teary eyes on his rag of clothing. "Why wouldn't have other wizards treated you like an equal?"

"The wizard family Dobby is bound to serve—one house and one forever…Dobby usually has to punish himself, miss. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door just for coming to see Harry Potter, miss. If they ever knew Dobby was here…" the house-elf told me, wringing his hands around each other.

"Your wizard family doesn't sound very decent," Harry said. Dobby shook his head, but without warning, started banging his head against the wall. Loudly. I flinched again and raced out of the room to peer down the stairs. I just barely dodged being seen by Vernon. They without a doubt could hear us. Luckily when I had returned to my room, Harry managed to calm Dobby down well enough.

"Why don't you escape?" Harry asked.

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. The family will never set Dobby free, sir. Dobby will serve until he dies." What? That was so sad! There had to be some other way…some way he could get away from his family. Harry thought similarly.

"That's awful! There has to be another way!" I said.

"Isn't there any way we could help you?" We soon learned to keep our mouths shut, for Dobby had broken out in grateful wails once again. I nervously glanced at the door, expecting the Dursleys to barge in any second.

"Such kindness from both sir and miss!" Dobby wailed. Anxiously, I left the room once again to get an update on the pigs. They were moving to the kitchen now and Vernon and Petunia were speaking louder than ever, trying to block the noise coming from upstairs. I hid again as Vernon threw a few angry looks upstairs.

"Just the plumping! No need to fret! Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Mason! Petunia has cooked an absolutely marvelous meal!" Vernon boomed. I heard a clanking of silverware and a brief conversation coming from the kitchen, as well as no sound from mine and Harry's room, so I knew we were safe for the moment.

But it didn't last long. From our room erupted a sudden outburst of yelps and dull thuds. I cringed once again; out of all days, Dobby had to come _today_. Why? Suddenly, I heard Vernon say, "Dudley must have left his television on upstairs, the little tyke!" My eyes widened in fear, and I rushed to our room and Vernon started to stomp up the stairs.

"Quick, hide Dobby!" I cried, but Harry was already way ahead of me. He stood in front of the closet, a panicked look on his face. I hurriedly lay down on my bed, trying to appear casual. Vernon barged in, looked very angry.

"What in the _devil_ are you doing?" he growled, teeth gritted. He held up a warning finger. It didn't help at all that my black barn owl, Crescent, hooted excitedly and tried to irrationally nip at it. "One more sound and the two of you will wish you've never been born!"

Harry let Dobby out of the closet once Vernon had stomped away. "See what it's like here? This is why I have to go back to Hogwarts?"

"Wait what?" I asked, confused.

"Dobby says that I can't return to Hogwarts because I will be in mortal danger," he explained rapidly. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What? Harry has to go back! As do I! It's the only place where we've ever fit in! All of our friends are there—"I started.

"Friends that don't even write?" Dobby answered slyly. Harry frowned, but not from sorrow.

"Hang on—how do you know our friends haven't been writing us?"

Dobby looked down guiltily, wringing his hands again. "Harry Potter and his friend mustn't be angry with Dobby—"

A lightbulb clicked in my head, and my hair faded slightly to red. "_You've _been stopping our letters?" I cried, forgetting about the Dursleys temporarily. Dobby pulled out a tightly wrapped package—it was a giant stack of letters. I could see the writing of Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Fred, George, Jason and even one from Neville! I made a lurch for them, but Dobby quickly pulled it out of my grasp.

"Dobby wanted Harry Potter to think his friends had forgotten him…then maybe he would not want to return to Hogwarts…unfortunately that meant Dobby had to take Lydia Black's letters…Harry Potter had to believe," Dobby said. Harry lurched for them as well. "And Harry Potter and his friend will get them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word. Harry Potter will not return to Hogwarts!"

"No!" Harry rejected angrily.

"Then Harry Potter gives Dobby no other choice," he said sadly. My eyes widened and my stomach sickened when the house elf reached for the doorknob and darted out of the room. Harry immediately followed him. I was frozen for a few seconds. If the Muggles saw him…

Dobby and Harry stood in the kitchen when I found them. Petunia's pudding masterpiece was floating high in the air, threatening to drop. "Hogwarts is my home. Just please don't—"Harry was begging. I hid behind the door. No good could come of this.

"Then Dobby must do it, sir."

I stared in horror as the pudding splattered on the floor, walls, Harry and everything it could reach. Before the dish could cling and break on the floor, Dobby had Disapparated with a crack. Not a second later, the Muggles raced into the kitchen and Petunia screamed. Harry stood shaking in the middle of the kitchen, covered head to toe in cream.

"Just my nephew and his friend. They're both very disturbed, that's why we keep them upstairs," Vernon tried to cover. It seemed as though it had worked, though the Masons looked very shocked. I was just barely peeking around the door, but the Dursleys were able to see me. Harry was forced to scrub the mess, and I stepped in before he could get yelled at.

"Wait, it wasn't his fault!" I cried, stepping in front of Harry.

"Then who's was it?" Vernon growled very sharply. Well, I couldn't very well tell him it was a house elf—that'd just get us in more trouble.

"It—it was—me," I told him bravely. "I, uh, told him too. Thought it'd be funny."

"It was both of us!" Harry cut in hurriedly, trying to save me from getting all the blame.

"Just clean—it—up," Vernon snarled. "I'll deal with you once our guests leave."

And Vernon left to attend to the Masons. Harry was still shaking; we assisted each other in cleaning the kitchen. But of course, there was indeed a way this day could get worse, because in flew an owl! This was the last straw for the Masons. Mrs. Mason ran from the house, screaming bloody murder—apparently she was afraid of birds…how irrational. Mr. Mason fled not longer after; he was not too happy.

Eyes flashing dangerously, he handed Harry the letter the owl had dropped on top of Mr. Mason's head. I listened intently and horrified as Harry read. They were aware that the Hover Charm had been performed at this house and it was reminding us to not use any more magic over the holidays or we may risk expulsion.

I banged my head heavily against the wall, groaning, "Why, Dobby? Stupid, stupid Dobby!" Petunia looked at me as if I was crazy, but Vernon focused on Harry, a demonic glint in his eyes.

"Slipped your mind to tell us that you freaks aren't allowed to use magic outside of school?" Vernon questioned, an insane undertone in his voice. My hair faded red at the word 'freaks'. "Well, I've got news for you, boy…I'm locking you up…you're never going back to that school…never! And _you_… you can join him, girl!"

I performed a last resort move. I made my hair fade to the deepest red I could manage, as well as my eyes. I growled like a vicious dog, baring my teeth. Dudley and Petunia screamed; I had managed to look a frightening as possible. "You bloody Muggles are _not _locking us up, and we _are _going back to Hogwarts," I barked viciously. Vernon, unexpectedly, was unfazed.

"Oh, are you?" he growled back, and took Harry and me by the hair, dragging us upstairs. I did everything—I tried to bite him, scratch him, kick him, etc. Nothing worked. We were stuck,

By next morning, we had bars on our window—and absolutely no chance at Hogwarts this year.

**Kinda a cliff hanger there, haha. Hope you guys enjoyed it and REVIEW! :D I wanna hear what you guys think!**

**CaptJess :)**


	2. The Burrow of the Gingers

**I have no excuse for the delay. I was just lazy, haha. But I finally managed to finish this after about 3 months of no inspiration whatsoever. So here it is!**

**Thank you to my faithful reviewers and I look forward to your responses! Also sorry if you get two alerts; I changed something a few hours after I posted it :)**

**Disclaimer is same as the previous chapter. Enjoy!**

We were only allowed two bowls of cold, soggy soup a day and let out from our prison only once in the morning. Supervised. Basically, we were being starved and the Dursleys didn't care one bit. Our owls were restless in their cages more than ever—at least mine wasn't being a princess like Hedwig, Harry's snow white owl. It was useless; at this rate, we'd both probably be dead in a few weeks.

It was late in the night when I heard a rattling noise, coming from an unknown source. I woke up with a start and started to make a reach for my wand—which wasn't there. I jumped out of my bed, listening to the noise closely; it was coming from the window. My heart gave an excited lurch at what I saw—three redheaded figures in a flying car. It was the Weasleys!

My mouth fell open as Ron, Fred and George waved at me from their car parked in _midair_. Quickly, I rushed to the window and pushed it open. I was still blocked by the bars but we were able to talk. "What in the world are you guys doing here? How'd you know where to find us?" I asked excitedly.

"Breaking you out of course! We were getting worried—we hadn't heard from either of you in months! We only wrote you enough! What's been going on?" Ron said.

"Sorry, it was the muggles! They locked up our owls! Plus, we couldn't get any of the letters—that's a longer story…" I replied. The twins leaned out the window and yanked on the bars covering our window.

"They did this too?" Fred asked, eyeing the bars with concern. I nodded.

"They sound like fantastic people," George commented. I snorted.

"Well, come on then! Wake Harry up and get your stuff!" Ron said. I nodded again. I rushed over to Harry and hit him with one of my pillows. He jumped awake looking absolutely startled. Before he could say anything, I told him, "We have to get all of our stuff. We're leaving."

"What? How?" Harry questioned, confused. I grinned.

"Gingers! Go look."

Harry hopped out of bed and crept slowly towards the window. He grew a huge smile when he spotted what exactly was there. "Ron!" he said in surprise.

"Hey, mate! What happened? Dad said you got a warning for using magic outside of school! He works for the Ministry, you know," Ron said. Harry gestured uncertainly at the flying car.

"What about that? Isn't that magic?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Oh this? It doesn't count. We didn't enchant it, Dad did. But what were you thinking, doing magic in front of muggles—"Ron started.

"That wasn't me—look it's a long story, I'll tell you later. How you going to get us out, you can't magic us out any more than we can?"

"Are you forgetting who I have with me?"

Fred threw the end of a rope to me. I gave him a skeptical look. "Just do it. I'm almost positive it'll work!" And so I tied the rope around one of the bars tightly as he revved the car.

"If the Dursleys wake up, were dead," Harry warned nervously.

"Don't worry," George said. "Just stand back."

Even our owls remained silent as the car revved louder. Suddenly, the bars were yanked off the window, and they now hung a few feet from the ground. Ron hurriedly pulled them into the back of the car. Harry and I listened for any other source of noise in the house. To my relief, there was none.

"All of our Hogwarts stuff is locked up downstairs in the cupboard," I told the Weasleys as they pulled as close as possible to the window. Without hesitation, the twins climbed out of the car and through the window connected to our room. George pulled out a hairpin and began to pick the lock keeping us within our room. I watched, very impressed.

"It's a handy little muggle trick to know, even if it does take a bit of time," Fred told us. And it paid off as well, because not a second later the door clicked open.

"Grab anything you need from the room and hand it to Ron. We'll get your trunks," George said quietly. I went downstairs with Fred and George, making sure they skipped the last step of the stairs, which tended to creak. Harry came down to help not long after. Fred and I grabbed my trunk and Harry and George got Harry's, and together we all heaved them up the stairs as silently as possible. I froze stiff every time I heard a noise…or at least thought I did.

I took much effort, but eventually we hauled the trunks through our room and into the flying car where Ron was sitting. I couldn't believe it—we were actually successful! Harry and I were breaking out of our horrible prison to be with our friends; that's what we had been hoping for all summer!

And all would have been fine—_if_ Crescent hadn't hooted gleefully when I picked her up. That darn little owl gets _way_ too excited with _everything_! And Vernon had had enough. "THOSE RUDDY OWLS!" he bellowed from the opposite room. My heart stopped for a split second. Then, Harry and I dashed to the window, with Hedwig and Crescent's cages now in our hands. I managed to get into the car safely, but Vernon burst into the room just as Harry was about to climb in.

Vernon roared and lunged towards Harry. The Weasleys and I grabbed him and tried to pull him into the car, but Vernon was able to grab his ankle. However, no matter how huge that disgusting man was, we still had five twelve to fourteen year olds on our side, including Harry's kicking. And in the end, we were able to pull Harry free.

Harry scrambled into the car and slammed the door shut. Fred stomped on the gas pedal and the car shot forward, _fast_. Harry rolled down the window, grinning, and shouted, "See you next summer!" The Weasleys and I roared with laughter and Harry and I hugged tightly. The look of horror on the Muggles faces could have made my week! George picked Hedwig and Crescent out of the cages. The two owls (mine chattering excitedly and trying to nip happily at George's fingers) soared with delight outside of the car.

Harry told the Weasleys all about what had happened in the past weeks. All about Dobby, how he had held back our letters, his warning and how he had done magic at the house.

"Very fishy," Fred said.

"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's plotting all of this?"

"I don't think he could. Every time he got close, he started banging his head against the wall," Harry said.

"Which went over _so_ well with the Dursleys," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Fred and George debated what Harry had told them.

"What I think is that maybe someone sent him as a joke, to stop you from coming to Hogwarts. See, house-elves have powerful magic, but they can't use it unless they get permission from their owners," Fred explained. "Can you think of anybody at school who has a grudge against you?"

Harry, Ron and I all shared a glance and answered together at once, "Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy? Not Lucius Malfoy's son?" George asked curiously.

"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" Harry replied.

"Get this, he's Lydia's cousin," Ron broke in. I glared at him.

"Ew!" the twins exclaimed together.

"_Thank you, Ronald,_" I growled pointedly. Ron shrugged away. As terrible as it was, it was true. The slimy, idiotic, pompous git Malfoy was indeed my cousin—well, second cousin. I had only learned of this last year. Turns out he had known long before me. But whatever, I had decided not to let it get to me.

"That's really unfortunate," George said. I sighed. "We heard Dad talking about the Malfoy's. Apparently they were big supporters of You-Know-Who. Course Lucius denied it. Load of dung of course—"

"Would the Malfoy's have a house-elf?" I asked them.

"Dunno, but whoever owns him is probably an old, rich wizarding family," Fred replied. "Mum's always wishing she had one to do the ironing, but all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden…" I wasn't surprised at that. Draco always gloated on how much money he had. In my opinion, the Weasleys, a poor family with seven children, deserved the money much more.

We kept a conversation throughout the ride to their home. They told us how Percy, their boring older brother, had been acting strangely over the summer—always shut up in his room, writing many letters, keeping his owl to himself. I assumed he was just polishing his prefect badge as usual. The Weasleys told us how their dad was working the night in his department—the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office—and they were able to sneak the car since he was gone.

"That's the main road," George informed, changing the topic suddenly. "We'll be there in ten minutes. Just as well, it's getting light." In about the time the sun was just peeking out over the mountains, Fred landed the car with a slight bump.

The house was magnificent. Not in the rich sort of mansion way, but in a cute homey comfy way. I guess to most it would have just looked like one huge mess with the several stories crookedly added to it and the hay, seeds and chickens scattering the front yard. But I already loved it way more than any house of the Dursleys.

"It's not much," Ron said with a shrug.

"It's brilliant," Harry and I said together.

Smiling at us, Ron said, "Come on, I sleep at the very top. I think you're going to stay with me, Harry, but I think mum may put you in Ginny's room, Ly—"He paused suddenly, his eyes going wide. Harry, Fred, George and I all whirled around. Marching right towards us was Mrs. Weasley, looking murderous.

She stopped in front of her sons, placing her hands on her hips and glaring from each guilty face to the next. "So," she said, simply yet dangerously.

"Morning Mum!" George greeted cheerfully. Mrs. Weasley paid him no attention.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" she whispered lowly. Suddenly, she was screaming at her sons—a truly frightening sight. I even jumped back a bit. "_Beds empty! No note! Car gone!_ You could have _died_! You could have been _seen_! You're father could have lost his _job_! Never had this trouble with Bill or Charlie or Percy—"

"Perfect Percy," Fred muttered bitterly.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" she shouted at him, prodding his chest with her finger. She went on, yelling and scolding at her three sons, who cowered behind each other. When she was finally done, she turned to Harry and I, who flinched. However, her expression in both her face and voice completely changed. In her sweetest voice, she said, "It's wonderful to see you both again, dears. Come on in and have breakfast!"

When she turned, Harry and I nervously glanced at the Weasley brothers. Ron nodded encouragingly. So, we followed her inside. This was the first actual wizard house I had ever been in; it was a completely new and interesting setting. The first thing I noticed was the plates scrubbing themselves, only to fly to Mrs. Weasley, who was now cooking breakfast.

She went around the table, serving her freshly cooked breakfast muttering under her breath; her words were much kinder when she reached Harry and me. While stuffing sausages onto my plate, she said admirably, "Lydia, dear, you're so, _so_ beautiful, even for your age!" I blushed, and grinned at her. And I could have sworn I heard one of the twins—Fred, I'm sure—say "Yeah, she is," to himself. But I might have been hearing things.

A small figure, undoubtedly redheaded, entered the kitchen and just as suddenly squealed and dashed out. "Ginny. My sister," Ron said lowly to Harry and I. "She's been talking about you all summer, Harry. Won't shut up actually.

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred joked with a grin, but bent his head over his plate once he caught his mother's eyes. "_Blimey_, I am tired! I think I'll go to bed—"

"You will not!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. "You three will de-gnome the garden. It's your own fault for staying up all night! You two," she said to Harry and me in a much sweeter tone of voice, "may go up to bed, dears. I'll bet you're exhausted."

"I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming—"Harry offered, obviously wide awake. I didn't feel very tired, but I didn't exactly want to work either. I stood up from the table.

"I think I'm going to go meet Ginny since I'm going to stay in her room if that's ok," I said.

"Of course, dear! Third floor. Make yourself at home!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed pulling out a book. I found the crooked stairs and slowly made my way up them observing everything within my sight. The house was truly magical and fascinating, though it was just an ordinary house to its owners. On the third landing, a door creaked open slightly and a pair of big brown eyes stared out from behind it.

Once the young girl saw who it was, she pushed the door open enough so her face was revealed. "Hi Ginny. My name's Lydia. Do you mind if I come in?" I greeted friendlily.

"Sure," she uttered in a small voice. The inside of her room was small, but had a good view of the garden where I noticed Harry and the Weasley brothers outside shooting what I believed to be gnomes across it. On her walls were Quidditch posters—one player in particular; a dark haired witch wearing robes of green and gold. Some of the posters were the Quidditch player's whole team together.

"You're a fan of Quidditch I take it?" I asked her kindly. She blushed and nodded. "What team is that?"

"The Holyhead Harpies. They're my favorite," she responded, slightly louder than she had been before. She was warming up to me a bit. She pointed to the dark haired witch on the centerfold poster of her room. "That's their captain, Gwenog Jones. I admire her," she explained with a very small smile. I grinned back.

"I wish I knew more Quidditch teams. I only know the one's in Hogwarts," I said. "I'm on the Gryffindor team. It's the only team I follow."

"You're on the Quidditch team! What do you play?" she piped her small face lighting up.

"Beater. Like Fred."

"Oh and like Gwenog!" She and I laughed together.

"This year is going to be your first year at Hogwarts, right?" I asked her.

"Yes. I'm so excited. It was actually quite lonely last year, with all my brothers gone off to Hogwarts or their own jobs. I've been waiting forever to go!" she said, growing more and more enthusiastic and outgoing. I was beginning to notice some of the girl that Ron said 'never shut up'. But I enjoyed her more gregarious side for it made her much easier to talk to.

"You'll love it. I consider Hogwarts my home. Harry and I never really had a real home. But Hogwarts is all that and more!" I told the younger girl, drifting somewhat into my own dreamland.

Ginny took a quick glance out the window and grew beet red once more. I knew she was looking at Harry. Looks like I was right about the crush! "Are you good friends with Harry Potter?" she asked me curiously.

"He's my best friend," I told her with an amicable smile. "We've lived together since we were both one year old. He's like my brother….Are you taking a liking?"

She jumped and her face turned so red that you couldn't tell it apart from her hair. "What! N-no! Of course not!" I could only smile.

"It's ok I won't tell," I said, winking. Some of her color returned as she took a long pause.

"S-swear?" She held up her pinky finger, and I wrapped my own around hers.

"Swear."

**So it's not much, but I just really wanted to get at least one chapter out. But I hoped you guys liked it despite its short pathetic-ness :D**

**CaptJess :)**


	3. Floo, Fights and Egos

**Once again, this took much longer to get out than I wanted but here it is! Inspired by—yes, WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER! I went this weekend with my orchestra and bloody hell was it amazing! And it inspired me to write again, so it's a win! :D**

**Disclaimer: Only Lydia and my other OC's belong to me.**

Chapter 3  
>Floo, Fights and Egos<br>~o~

Life at the Weasleys was even better than I ever dreamed. Everything there was bursting with the odd and extraordinary; nothing was ever quiet or boring. I was the only one that Fred and George would allow into their room. Inside contained numerous incomplete experiments of joke products, particularly candies to get you out of classes. It was absolutely brilliant!

The Weasley's treated Harry and I as if we were family, a feeling which we had never experienced before. Molly constantly fussed over how much we ate and the clothes we wore and even our personal hygiene; while Arthur fascinated himself with our stories about Muggles and their normal everyday objects. Since I was rooming with Ginny, we would stay up a little later than her parents allowed and sat in the dark talking; I actually grew pretty close to her, and I bet it was nice for her to have another girl around her age she could converse with. When I wasn't hanging around Harry or Ron or Ginny, I was with Fred and George, helping with their explosive experiments or plotting ways to see what Perfect Percy the Prefect (who still hadn't shown his face for more than 10 minutes the whole time I'd been there) was doing locked up in his room.

After about a week, Hogwarts letters arrived. And not just the Weasleys' letters; mine and Harry's were included as well! Mr. Weasley handed the letters out, giving one each to Ron and Harry as they walked in (to which Ginny jumped and spilled her porridge. I mouthed the word 'relax' to her), and then to the rest of us. We read over the letters in silence.

"Who's Gilderoy Lockhart?" I asked, noticing almost every book on the list was authored by him. Fred looked over at my letter.

"So you've been given all Lockhart's books too! I guess the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan—probably a witch," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Ah, so a pretty-boy author?" I replied with a small smile. He scowled and shrugged.

"Apparently."

"Pretty-boy or not, his books aren't cheap," George cut in.

Mrs. Weasley attempted to appear impassive, but we could all spot the worry in her face. "Well, we'll manage." I instantly felt guilty. Gringotts held a savings account of mine which held probably more money than all the Weasleys combined had. If only Mrs. Weasley would allow me to assist in their money situation…

Along with the Hogwarts letters arrived a letter from Hermione. She mentioned that she was planning to travel to Diagon Alley the upcoming Wednesday, and Mrs. Weasley announced that that's when we'd go then. So the next Wednesday, we were woken up quite early for our trip to the magical shopping area. Apparently in order to get there, we had to use a…flowerpot?

"Harry and Lydia have never traveled by Floo Powder before," Ron reminded his mother as she held the flowerpot out to a very confused Harry. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley seemed shocked by this, and the idea of getting to London by the means of Muggle ways (aka, the Underground train). So instead, Fred and George offered to demonstrate how to use the Powder.

They took a pinch of the powder each and stepped up to the fireplace where a small fire was raging. The fire turned emerald green and roared with life, and the twins stepped into it. Together, they cried, "Diagon Alley!" and in an instant, they vanished.

The Weasley explained to us directions left and right, making me feel much more nervous than before. Harry looked to me expectantly when they were through. "No, no, by all means, you first," I suggested, my eyebrows rising in amusement. He sighed, and stepped forward, and did his best to imitate the twins. But when he got to the word, he stuttered over it and rushed it. We remained quiet in worry a few moments after he too had disappeared.

"Yep, he _definitely_ said 'diagonally'. Where's that take him?" I asked in a tone that was a mixture of sarcasm and serious. Mrs. Weasley uneasily waved it off.

"Well…h-he couldn't have gone too far now, could he? He'll be alright," she assured, sounding extremely uncertain. She paused for another moment, pursing her lips in thought. "Well, maybe you should go with Lydia, Ron just to make sure everything goes smoothly." Ron nodded and took my arm, leading me to the fireplace.

"If we end up in Canada, Lydia, I swear…"Ron started cautiously, not looking thrilled at being with someone who's never traveled by Floo before.

I scowled and gave him a light shove. "We won't end up in Canada, Ronald. Let's go." We laced arms and threw the Floo Powder into the fire simultaneously. Green warm flames engulfed us. "Diagon Alley!" we both cried.

The trip made me rather dizzy, but was quite quick. Ron and I landed right outside of the Leaky Cauldron entrance where the twins were waiting for us. Harry was nowhere in sight. So once again, Harry was in trouble and I was powerless to do anything about it. One by one, the Weasleys appeared before our eyes, with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny arriving last.

"Oh _dear_, we've lost Harry! He could be anywhere! Oh, how could I have let this happen?" Mrs. Weasley cried frantically. Mr. Weasley tried to calm his wife down, with no prevail. Eventually, Mrs. Weasley split up from us to search for him around the area, still clutching her daughter's hand. I went with the Weasley boys towards Gringotts.

Luckily, we picked the right path. Not seconds later, we saw three very familiar people near the entrance to Gringotts. I recognized them as Harry, my female Muggle-born best friend Hermione and Hagrid, mine and Harry's half-giant friend from Hogwarts. Arthur quickly made contact with Molly and we sprinted up the street to meet them.

"Harry, we hoped you hadn't gone too far—"Mr. Weasley panted. "Molly's frantic—she's on her way now—"

"_Diagonally_? _Really_?" I exclaimed. He shrugged bashfully.

"Where'd you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," replied Hagrid, giving Harry a dark look. My face switched to one of confusion.

"_Excellent_!" the twins said, grins spreading across their faces.

"Wait, what's Knockturn Alley?" I asked.

"A grimy place that a witch your age should never be found in," Hagrid grunted, "Don' even think 'bout it!" Fred and George winked at me mischievously.

"Draco Malfoy—he and his father were there," Harry told us. Before anyone could reply, Molly came into view, running as fast as she could. She immediately started fussing over Harry, as she normally did; brushing the soot off his clothes and wiping the dirt from his face.

"Oh, Harry, your glasses!" Hermione started. "You can't go anywhere like that! Here—_Oculus Repairo_!" With her wand, she tapped the bridge of the broken glasses and instantly they became good as new.

"Neat! Where'd you learn that?" I question her. She proudly put her wand back into her pocket.

"I _read_."

I turned to Fred and George, and they understood my look. We began jokingly imitating her. If I had done this around the time I first met Hermione, she probably would have been very offended. However, we knew each other well enough now—enough to know that my tone was goodhearted when I called her names like "smart aleck" and "know-it-all" and "teacher's pet". She merely smiled with an eye roll of her light brown eyes.

When Hagrid had left us, Mr. Weasley continued the conversation from before. "Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" he asked Harry suspiciously.

"No he was selling—"

"Ah!" Mr. Weasley now had a hint of a smile. "So he's worried. Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful Arthur! That family's trouble—"Mrs. Weasley scolded. We were once again separated as Mr. Weasley went to meet Hermione's (Muggle) parents, as Arthur was quite fascinated by Muggles; Hermione traveled to her own vault and Harry and I went with the rest of the Weasley to our vaults.

Though the ride to the vaults made me sick, nothing made me feel sicker than seeing the Weasley's vault. It contained only a stack of silver Sickles and one gold Galleon. I had almost a hundred times more in my own vault. I assume it was from my father side of the family—a very rich pureblood line. It wasn't fair in my opinion. So once we had all gotten the money we wanted, I sneakily slipped a few Galleons into Mrs. Weasley's bag without her noticing. I knew that if I offered it, she would never take it.

Outside of Gringotts, we broke into even smaller groups. Just like back in school, it was Harry, Ron, Hermione and I together. We chatted up gleefully, catching up on each other's summers and eating ice cream while walking down the streets of Diagon Alley. We collected our supplies and Ron and I annoyed Percy when we found him. An eventually we headed to Flourish and Blotts only to find a gigantic crowd in front of the bookshop.

The Gilderoy Lockhart guy that wrote pretty much all the books on our book list was in Flourish and Blotts, signing copies of an autobiography he wrote called Magical Me. Inside, we met up with the other Weasleys. Most of the crowd was witches trying to get as close as possible (including Mrs. Weasley and Hermione!). I didn't see what the big fuss was about. He wasn't that handsome. Plus, his robes of forget-me-not blue were way too vibrant to handle.

Plus, he was very clearly pompous—he was feeding off the crowd and the cameras. I could almost feel his ego growing by the second. It was disgusting. What made it worse was how these witches were buying into it; every little wink and smile and flip of his golden hair. I scoffed quite loudly after examining him.

Unfortunately, he heard me, and started to examine the crowd, his blue eyes narrowed in greedy offense. But his eyes passed right over me and came to rest on Harry's face, where they went wide and awestruck.

"Is that…_Harry Potter_!" he yelled excitedly. The whole crowd let out a collective gasp and turned to face my best friend, whose face flushed with embarrassment. My hair flickered red and I gave an annoyed sigh, moving to stand in front of Harry to block him from the stares in his direction.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter, come up here please!" Lockhart called. The photographer started for him, but I stood my ground in front of Harry.

"Little miss, I need you to move! We need Harry Potter!" the photographer said.

"Look, he doesn't want to come up. He doesn't like crowds," I tried to compromise. The photographer shook his head roughly.

"Of course he does! He's Harry Potter!" a reporter near the photographer argued. My hair twitched red again.

"I know who he is!" I snapped, my severe temper flaring. "_He does not want to come up_!"

"Young lady, what is your name?" Lockhart called, this time towards me. Oh goody, here comes _my_ unwanted attention as everyone gasps in horror at the murder's daughter. Just great.

"Lydia Black," I sighed. As expected, Lockhart's eyes went wide with horror, and the crowd let out another synchronized intake of breath. My anger want only prodded as the stares turned towards me.

"Well, Miss B-Black, it will only be a few moments, and then you and your friend Mr. Potter can be on your way, all right?" Lockhart reasoned nervously. I glared, making matters worse for myself.

"Lydia it's all right, I'll just get it over with," Harry whispered in my ear. I turned to look at him and he gave me a reassuring look. Finally, I stepped away from him, and immediately the reporter grabbed him. He was pushed up by Lockhart's side where the selfish author wrapped his arm around my best friend's shoulders and smiled charmingly.

"Really, Lydia," Hermione started in a scolding matter, "all he wanted was a picture!" I observed in distain as Hermione's eyes glistened as she watched Lockhart wave to the crowd and make his speech with an uncomfortable looking Harry at his side.

"Hermione! Do you really not see it? The big headed git is soaking this up! His ego's as big as Europe itself!"

"Oh don't be so silly, Lydia. He's being _so kind_…"

I whirled to face Fred and George, who were also listening to mine and Hermione's conversation with expressions of disbelief. Fred mocked a wand to his head and George pretended to gag (or he might have actually gagged—I wouldn't have been surprised).

At the end of Lockhart's speech, Harry had obtained all his books free of charge and much unwanted attention. But as he let Harry go, he started another one. "Harry and his schoolmates, like Miss B-Black (I scowled) will be receiving the actual magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this September I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Fred, George and I all groaned exasperatedly together. Well, that was one class I wasn't looking forward to again. I thought last year had been bad—last year's teacher Professor Quirrell turned out to have Lord Voldemort on the back of his head!

Harry silently slipped the new books into Ginny's cauldron, giving her a smile. Her face once again blended into her hair. Her parents and Percy elected to stay back in the bookstore, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, the twins and I were ready to go, and Ginny followed close behind me. However, we didn't get far.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?" a cold, familiar voice called out. I froze in dread—his was the last voice I wanted to hear. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"Why don't _you_ run off to your daddy like a good little boy now, Draco. Maybe, just maybe, you can ask him to buy you a muzzle," I shot back, stepping forward so that my pathetic cousin and I were nose-to-nose.

"Maybe you should take your own advice and ask your parents for one," Draco snapped, and then smirked. "Oh that's right, you don't have parents to run to—"

"Don't you dare talk to her like that, you bigheaded git!" Fred growled dangerously, taking a step in front of me. Being two years older, Fred and George towered over the small blonde boy.

"Yeah, leave her and Harry alone!" George agreed just as dangerously. Draco seemed unfazed.

"Oh look it's the Weaselys. Surprised to see you lot in a shop. Suppose you'll go hungry for a month to pay for all those books, won't you?"

I looped my fingers through Fred and George's hands to keep them from charging, and Harry and Hermione held Ron back. I snarled at Malfoy, my hair finally faded to its full red hue in anger. "Come on guys, let's just go. He's not worth it," Harry suggested, shooting Draco a dirty look.

"Good idea. Maybe you can get a front page picture in the robe shop now!" Draco continued. Ginny appeared next to me, her eyes narrowed.

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all of that," she spoke up boldly. Draco examined her for the first time and laughed.

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Potter?" Ginny flushed scarlet again and shuffled behind me, losing her courage. "What are the Weasleys to you two, Potter, Black—a band of bodyguards?"

"I'm surprised you're being this tough without yours. Or have Crabbe and Goyle found someone even less decent than you?" I said, but then changed my mind. "Nevermind that's not possible."

"You think you're _so funny_ but—"

"Now, now, Draco, play nicely," a man with a droning voice and bright blonde hair like Draco's intervened. He was obviously Draco's father. His eyes settled interestedly on Harry. "Well, well, Mr. Harry Potter. We meet at last. If you'll forgive me," Malfoy pushed Harry's mop of black hair up with his cane so he could get a full view of the lighting scar upon his forehead. This bothered me greatly. "That scar is legendary. As is the wizard who gave it to you."

"Voldemort was nothing more than a murderer," Harry shot back, not bothering to be polite. I squirmed under the word 'murderer'.

"You're very brave to mention his name…or very foolish."

"What's foolish is being afraid of a name!"

Malfoy faced me upon my words. "Ah, Black. Lydia Black. The daughter of my wife's cousin, no doubt—"

"Yeah, don't remind me," I mumbled bitterly.

"I'd recognize a Black anywhere. Your mother is Muggle-born, yes?"

"How should I know, I've never met her."

"But you're famous no doubt because of your father. You've never met him either?"

"No, I've haven't," I answered his questions irritably, getting more uncomfortable by the second.

"I see. Well, dear girl, I think you might want to work on that temper of yours. It might get you in trouble someday just your father's did…" Fred gently squeezed my right hand to keep me calm, though he looked as if he wanted to beat him up himself. Malfoy switched his gaze to Hermione, who shrunk back.

"Miss Granger, is it?" he asked. She nodded. "Yes, Draco's told me all about you. And your parents. Muggles, are they?" Hermione nodded again, uneasily. He looked over Ron, Ginny and the twins last.

"Well this is an easy one—red hair," he plucked a tattered book out of Ginny's cauldron, "second hand books. You must be the Weasleys." Ginny bowed her head. Arthur noticed this and walked up to us.

"Ginny, what's wrong? It's crowded in here kids, let's move along." He stopped and narrowed his eyes once he saw the elder Malfoy. He nodded coldly. "Lucius."

"The Ministry has been rather busy has it not? All those raids. All quite unnecessary but I do hope they're paying you overtime. But, by the looks of things," he examined the frayed book again and then dropped it back into Ginny's cauldron, "I'd say not. Tell me, what's the use in being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Arthur flushed even darker red than Ron, Ginny, Fred and George. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he replied coldly.

"Clearly," Malfoy said, and his eyes strayed to Hermione's parents. "The company you keep, Weasley…and I thought your family could sink no lower…"

Mr. Weasley flew at Malfoy, and they were rolling on the ground fighting. The whole works—punches, kicks. Fred and George yelled, "Get him, Dad!" I followed up by calling, "Go Mr. Weasley!" Booming footsteps headed towards us, and I saw Hagrid come into view, shell shocked by the fight. He quickly and easily pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy off of each other. Malfoy snarled at Mr. Weasley (a gesture which he returned) and whirled around to the exit, dragging his son along with him. The younger Malfoy shot us one last dirty look and left.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," Hagrid told Mr. Weasley, clapping him on the back. "The whole family's bad blood—rotten to the core—"

Our group, along with the frightened Grangers, left the shop for the Leaky Cauldron fireplace where we would be getting home. Mrs. Weasley furiously ranted at her husband, while the rest of us complimented him on his well played fight. We said a final goodbye to Hermione as the Grangers parted for home and we took a pinch of Floo Powder for ours.

And this time I made _sure_ Harry went with a Weasley!

~o~

**Hope you like! The next one should be up soon. Read and Review please!**

**CaptJess :)**


	4. Back Home

**I had severe writer's block on this chapter. I actually find it difficult to veer from the original story line and do my own thing on it! So it was challenging but I finally got it out!**

**I wanted to get this out today becaaaaussseeee…it's my baby Lydia's birthday today! Yay September 5****th****! :D**

**So, I personally think this chapter sucks, but I hope you guys don't! Here it is:**

**~o~**

**Chapter 4  
>Back home<strong>

"And then we made it so the explosion caused paint bottles we set up in the room to squirt at him. There was still paint in his greasy hair for at least three days!"

Ginny had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. We were pretty sure the rest of the Weasleys were still asleep as it was only seven thirty in the morning. Now normally it would be insane for me to be awake at this ungodly hour. However, September 1st was only two days away, and I grew more and more excited as the days passed. And as it was Ginny's first year, she was even more ecstatic than I. Because of this, we had been waking up in the early morning and would start talking for hours.

I had decided to enlighten her about what Hogwarts and its teachers were like—starting with lovely Professor Snape. Ah yes, my least favorite teacher. He was probably the only bad thing about Hogwarts. Snape had this weird and unreasonable (well, it _used_ to be unreasonable) grudge against me and more importantly Harry. He hates Harry much more than me though, which I don't understand because I actually provoke Snape. Harry tries not to; and yet, Harry just seems to bother him.

Ginny and I were trying our best to keep our laughter to a minimum, but sometimes one of us would laugh just a little too loud. "Oh and at a Quidditch game, Hermione set his robes on fire. Course it was cause he was performing some weird curse of some sorts (Harry insists he was chanting a countercurse, but I don't really buy it). Fred, George and I always said to her that it'd be funnier if she had set his hair one fire. We figure it'd burn easier with all the grease in it!"

Ginny and I cracked up once again, attempting once again to silence our giggles. This time, however, we managed to wake someone up. A few moments later, Ginny's door burst open revealing Percy, his hair disheveled and his glasses askew. "Do you two _mind_?" he growled sleepily.

"No not at all. We were just talking about all the uptight, prissy Prefects at Hogwarts, and since you do rather like to talk about yourself—"I started.

"There are some people who like to _sleep_, you know," Percy interrupted, also cutting off Ginny's giggles. She rolled her eyes playfully.

"Because you need _so_ much sleep," Ginny said sarcastically. "You couldn't possibly be sleepy to stay in your room and write _love letters_ all day."

"_Ginny_—"

"_Love letters_? He's writing _love letters_?" I questioned dramatically.

"Black, I am _warning you_—"

"Yeah didn't you know? He's been sending letters to his _girlfriend_ all summer," Ginny said with another fit of giggles. My jaw dropped.

"_Ginny, I am going to kill you_—"

"He has a _girlfriend_? What has this world come to?" I exclaimed. Percy's face had gone the same shade as his hair, and he looked as if steam would start shooting out his ears any minute.

"That's it!" he cried and stormed out of the room. "Mum!"

At some point, Molly had awoken and had begun to cook another delicious breakfast for us—we could smell it from Ginny's room! She had this really neat way of waking all of us up in the morning and bringing us downstairs. All she had to do was tap her wand on the wall near the foot of the stairs, and soon there would be two sharp knocks on every door in the house. I _had_ to learn how to do that!

Ginny and I stomped down the stairs together, eager for breakfast. As usual, I was starving! Percy glared at us once we entered the kitchen and took our normal seats at the kitchen table next to each other. "There they are! Tell her how you were harassing me—"Percy exclaimed, but was given a sharp look by his mother.

"Now, Percy, that's enough. Stop accusing them of such nonsense! They're two little girls!" Molly snapped, flipping to a doggie-flapped page in her cookbook. "And to be so rude to our guest!"

"Yeah, Perce, don't be so rude!" George interjected, him and his twin showing up in the kitchen.

"Not everyone can be as perfect as you, your bigheadedness," Fred said. Percy crossed his arms and glared at the twins and then at Ginny and I pointedly, but did as his mother said. Ginny and I shared smirks.

Within a matter of minutes, every Weasley, Potter and Black were downstairs and served breakfast—a normal morning, Harry and I learned from the past month we've spent at the Burrow. The owls swooped in with the daily mail such as the Daily Prophet and business letters for Arthur from the Ministry of Magic. Arthur temporarily ignored the letters and examined the front page of the newspaper.

"What's the top story today, Arthur?" Molly asked casually, as she did every morning. But this morning, Arthur was frozen. "What's the problem?" his wife asked, concerned. He quickly crumpled up the paper and shook his head.

"Nothing, nothing. Just nothing interesting," he replied a little too quickly. He made the mistake of placing the crumpled newspaper on the table, and Fred and George wasted no time in grabbing and unfolding it to read the front. They too froze.

"That bastard!" George cried.

Fred clearly agreed. "The pompous little sh—"

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!" Molly shouted.

"Wait, let me see!" I exclaimed, snatching it out of their hands before they could protest.

**Author Harassed by Murder's Daughter**

"Just last week, renowned author Gilderoy Lockhart held a book signing for his new autobiography Magical Me in the Diagon Alley bookshop Flourish and Blotts. However, he got much more than he bargained for when he spotted none other than 12-year-old Harry Potter in line.  
>'Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is almost as famous as me,' Lockhart stated, with an air of awe. 'Of course I wanted a picture with the young Harry. It's something I could only have dreamed of!'<br>The young Potter expressed thrill at taking a picture with the author, however, one did not. A young girl proceeded to block the young Potter from view and verbally attack not only Lockhart, but the crew of the Daily Prophet!  
>This young, yet dangerously beautiful girl is known by Lydia Andromeda Black. It is known that she is the one and only child of the vicious criminal Sirius Black, whom 11 years ago committed the unforgivable crime of murdering a dozen Muggles and one wizard shortly after the murder of the Potter family. It is unknown whether if Lydia Black is unsafe, or just a young girl inheriting her father's violence—"<p>

I didn't read the rest. I re-crumpled the paper and tossed it aside, and stormed out of the house angrily. I flung myself down in the grass near the lake by their house. I _harassed _Lockhart? _Harassed_ him? If anything, he was harassing Harry! Now, I guess I was unsafe!

I growled to myself, feeling slightly sick. As if my reputation wasn't bad enough, this happens! When I go back to Hogwarts, will other students now see me as "unsafe", "dangerous" or worst of all "violent"? Will I see disgust in the eyes of the people that were once my friends? I shook my head. Maybe this was my own fault. Maybe nothing like this would have happened if I had just kept by big mouth shut. No; maybe all of this wouldn't have happened if my father wasn't a bloody, dirty, cruel killer. I'm not stupid— I know how some people see me. I see the looks of repulsion when I walk by; I heard the horrified gasps when they learn my name. All of it is because of him. In this case, the blasphemy of my birth that follows me is a very true statement.

I heard footsteps approaching behind me. Harry and Ron sat beside me, both wearing gentle, comforting smiles. After a bit of a silence, Ron spoke up. "I can't believe we have to have that git for a teacher this year. He can't possibly be as smart as he thinks he is."

A sudden idea hit me, and my anger grew. "Remember when the git announced he'd be our teacher this year back in Flourish and Blotts? I know why he said _both_ mine and Harry's names. Because he wanted to make himself seem like a _saint_. 'Not only am I teaching freaking Harry Potter, possibly the most famous kid ever, but I'm also taking on dangerous little creatures like Miss B-Black. Aren't I just _wonderful_?' He makes me sick." Ron and Harry's expressions passed two stages; first realization and then resentment.

"Lydia," Harry started soothingly, "look, you may be temperamental, and have quite a lot of anger issues, and may be a little violent—"

I smacked him in the leg. "Not helping!" I exclaimed heatedly.

"I was _going_ to say, that though you might be all those, you're not dangerous. Anyone who knows you can see that," Harry continued, rubbing the sore red mark on his leg. His words eased my temper a bit, and my flaming hair faded back to its charcoal complexion.

"Thanks," I replied glumly. "If only more people knew me." I shook my head. "I take that back, I hate most people." Harry and Ron began to chuckle, and eventually I join in.

"Although, I do have to admit," Ron began, "you _are_ a bit scary sometimes."

Harry, Ron and I walked back to the Burrow together, Harry and Ron attempting to soothe their identical swelling red blotches on their legs.

~o~

On September 1st, we arrived quite late at King's Cross Station with only fifteen minutes to spare. The Hogwarts Express left at exactly 11 o'clock. If anyone were to arrive later than that, the train would leave without them. The Weasleys, Harry and I basically sprinted to platforms 9 and 10, the secret barrier to the Platform 9 and ¾ where the train sat, waiting for passengers.

I watched as Percy, followed by Mr. Weasley and Fred and George ran into the barrier and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley took Ginny's hand, saying, "Alright, Lydia you go now, and then Ginny and I will follow. Ron and Harry, you come after us." I nodded, aiming myself directly in front of the solid barrier with my cart. I dashed towards it, and suddenly the giant red and black steam engine was before me. Crescent gave a cheerful hoot, recognizing the train.

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley soon appeared behind me. I watched Ginny's eyes glaze over in awe. She had of course seen the train before, being that she had six older brothers, but her expression was different this time. This time it was laced with pure excitement—it no longer held the longing as it did last year. I smiled at the younger girl. "Excited?" I asked.

"More than anything," she replied with a grin.

"Where the devil are those two boys?" Mrs. Weasley said, examining the barrier behind her. Harry and Ron should have been on the platform by now; I wonder what was taking so long…

Molly heaved a tense sigh and faced her daughter and me again. "It's about to leave in one minute, they had better hurry! Maybe those two showed up but we just didn't spot them, hmm. Lydia, why don't you go with Ginny to find a compartment? I wouldn't want you two to miss the train!"

"Ok," I agreed. Molly kissed her daughter on the cheek, engulfing her in a big hug. It surprised and flattered me when she turned to me and did the same. I realized just how much I was going to miss her, as she had been more kind to me in the past month than possibly anyone else I knew had been in the past 12 years.

"Bye Mum!"

"Bye Mrs. Weasley!

Ginny and I rushed to the train just as the whistle blew, and managed to be the last to passengers to board. We pushed our way through the hallway pass many filled compartments of students of all ages. I looked into one of them, crowded with a group I recognized as 6th year Slytherins, who scowled at me the moment I peered in. I returned the look without a thought. One thing I had not missed about Hogwarts—Slytherins.

"Most of these compartments are full—I don't think we'll be able to find an empty one," Ginny said, glancing into each compartment curiously.

"Yeah, I doubt it too," I replied.

"How about this one?" Ginny pointed to a compartment on her right. "There's only one person in it—she looks rather lonely. I think she might be a first year." I peered in the one she was pointing to. Indeed it was only occupied by one person—a young, small girl with long blonde hair who sat reading something in the corner. She was dressed in a particularly odd fashion, pairing colors that did not match whatsoever along with strange looking jewelry. However, she did not appear mean or intimidating.

"Hello. May we sit here?" I asked the girl when Ginny slid the door open. The girl looked up, somewhat dazed, her thick rimmed glasses sliding down to her nose.

"Sure," she piped, her voice high pitched and dreamy. She examined us as we stored our stuff into the overhead compartments, and took seats across from each other. After a few moments silence, she spoke up again. "Are you first years?"

"She is," I replied, gesturing to Ginny with my head. "I'm a second year. I'm actually supposed to be a first year, but Dumbledore let me in early last year." Her wide silvery eyes grew larger in excitement.

"Did he let you in early to help find the treasure in the lake?!" she exclaimed very loudly. Ginny and I shared confused glances.

"Um, treasure in the lake?" I asked. The girl nodded.

"Yes! The one the giant squid guards. I heard it's filled to the brim with galleons, _and_ instructions for potions to cure diseases of all kinds—including sunburns." I blinked in confusion a few times. This girl sure was eccentric—and puzzling.

"Oh, uh, _no_. He—didn't put in for that reason."

The girl's face fell slightly. "Oh, that's a shame." I bit back a small smile. She may be strange, but I have to admit she is adorable.

"Well, anyway, I'm Lydia, and this is Ginny," I introduced.

"H-hi," Ginny greeted nervously (from the previous conversation or just shyness, I could not tell).

"I'm Luna Lovegood," the girl said, the dreamy tone to her voice returning from her past excitement.

"Lovegood?" Ginny asked in a hint of recognition. "We live near each other I think. In Ottery St. Catchpole?"

"Oh yes! The Weasleys?" Ginny nodded, offering Luna a small smile. "I always hear explosions coming from your house."

"Oh…" Ginny finished and shifted in her seat uncomfortably. I quietly snorted, covering my amused smile beneath my hand. Ginny shot a glare at me and Luna returned to her magazine. We lapsed into an awkward silence, and I stared out the window, cheek in the palm of my hand as I watched the various landscapes fly by me in a blur.

The compartment doors flew open again with a sharp bang and Fred and George stumbled in, chucking playfully like the idiots they were and plopping down in the empty seats. I raised an eyebrow at my friends, waiting for them to explain to me what they were giggling about. "Sorry," Fred began through his sniggers. "Screwing with the prefects."

"Fred! Language!" Ginny piped up, her eyes widened in shock, and I burst out laughing. Fred stuck out his tongue and tapped her on the nose.

"Stop sounding like Mum," he said in a playful tone. Fred and George suddenly glanced around the compartment and their smiles fell, their expressions changing to one of confusion.

"Where are Ron and Harry?" George asked from beside me.

"Yeah, we haven't seen them anywhere on the train," Fred continued, and my stomach dropped. "We figured they might be with you two." He glanced at Luna, who made no moved to pay attention to the conversation going on in front of her in any way whatsoever. "And I guess you too." Luna looked up, blinking dazedly.

"Well, Ginny and I thought they might be with you. We didn't ever see them get onto the platform," I told him. A lump appeared in my throat at a sudden thought. "D'you think they didn't make the train?"

Fred and George both frowned in response which only fueled my worry for my friends. No Harry and Ron at Hogwarts this year? I don't know what I'd do with myself. Our compartment doors opened once more and hope stirred in my stomach for a fraction of a second, which was put out as easily as it came. However, the face that appeared in the doorway caused a new emotion and I smiled at Hermione as she peered in.

She immediately sighed. "No Harry or Ron in here either?" All of us, excluding Luna who was still absorbed in her magazine, shook our heads. "I've looked _everywhere_." She took a seat next to Ginny dejectedly.

"Does this mean they'll never make it Hogwarts this year?" I asked worriedly.

"Nah, Mum and Dad'll find a way to get them there. Just cause you miss the train doesn't mean you have to miss Hogwarts," Fred answered.

"Don't worry, Lyd, they'll be there in no time," George added, flashing a reassuring smile at me. I nodded, smiling in return.

An hour had passed before anyone had entered our almost full compartment. I had accepted the fact that Harry and Ron had not caught the train; if they had, why wouldn't they come looking for us? However, I was reassured by Fred and George's statements, and trusted that we would find them safe and sound at Hogwarts, waiting at the elongated Gryffindor table. The only other person to enter our compartment stumbled in about an hour into the train ride.

I beamed when the door slid open to reveal the sight of my older cousin. "Hello everyone!" Jason Ericson greeted with his diverse American accent. Hermione was the only one to offer a polite greeting in return. I, for one, bounced on him, nearly knocking him to the ground. Ginny and Luna did not know who he was; I caught Luna eyeing him shyly from behind her magazine, a light red blush appearing on her pale cheeks.

"Where the hell have you been, mate?" George said.

"Prefects meeting. Ced and I are two of the new prefects, remember?" Jason replied, an eyebrow rose. It wasn't until then when I noticed another boy who had entered after Jason. The boy was about the same age as Jason; he was tall and burly, with ruffled bronze hair and bright grey eyes. He was actually quite handsome. I had a feeling that he was one of those guys that girls went crazy over. The exact kind of girls that irritated me.

"Oh yeah that's right. Completely forgot you two went over to the dark side," Fred said with a deep scowl. Jason rolled his eyes, the laid back smirk still playing on his face.

"The Slytherins are particularly terrible this year," the other boy, who I assumed was 'Ced' continued. "The girl this year is that god awful Burke girl."

The twins grimaced. "Who would make _her_ a prefect?!" they practically shouted. The two oldest boys shrugged. Jason caught my eye and a sudden realization dawned on him.

"Oh right!" he exclaimed, turning to the other boy. "Ced, this is my little cousin Lydia. Lydia, this is my best friend Cedric Diggory. He's the Hufflepuff prefect this year."

I gave Cedric a polite smile, which the older boy returned. "Black, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied a bit too defensively. But I relaxed when he merely nodded, with no form of resentment or disgust visible in his eyes. Jason introduced Hermione, and soon Ginny once he pieced together that she was the last Weasley sibling.

Jason turned to the remaining person in our compartment. "Hello, we haven't met. May I ask who you are?" Luna's wide silver eyes were suddenly noticeable again over her magazine, which she hadn't put down the whole train ride.

"My name's Luna," the young girl said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Perhaps she was more timid around larger or older groups? Jason shot a wide, white smile at Luna.

"Nice to meet you Luna," he replied kindly. A blush once more appeared on the girl's face, and she sunk down into the corner once more. Ginny and I noticed and exchanged a small smirk. This was going to be a fun train, with or without Harry and Ron.

~o~

The Great Hall was just as fabulous as I remembered it. The ceiling extended far up and illuminated the starry night sky. Candles floated in midair, lighting the Hall with the most wondrous glow. The four tables stretched throughout the length of the Hall were decorated with many empty silver plates and silverware, and the seats of all four houses were filling up quickly. At the head of the Hall sat all of the Hogwarts teachers; some faces I missed, some I dreaded seeing.

Almost immediately, I met Professor Snape's glare. He was definitely one of those that I dreaded. It wasn't until I spotted Lockhart's face that a scowl formed on my face. Plastered on his face was an annoying, cocky smile that made my blood boil. Gritting my teeth, I plopped down next to Hermione. She wore a heavy frown.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" I asked her. She continued to scan the room and her frown deepened.

"It's just…Harry and Ron. I still don't see them," she said. I almost completely forgot about them! They still hadn't shown up. Worry bubbled up in my stomach.

"Where the hell could they possibly be?" I asked. I was met with no answer.

I only half listened to Dumbledore's speech and the sorting. The only times I snapped out of my own little world is when I heard Luna Lovegood's and Ginny's name being called. Luna was quickly sorted into Ravenclaw. I cheered loudly with the Weasley siblings and Hermione when Ginny was fortunately sorted into Gryffindor, as everyone expected her to be.

Throughout the whole feast, as delicious as it was, I worried. What happened to my friends? What if they never showed up to Hogwarts this year? The butterflies in my stomach grew as I heard countless rumors. They had flown here because they missed the train; they had gotten expelled; they crashed into a tree. The most ridiculous things that didn't do anything to ease my worry.

Hermione and I elected to wait a bit longer in the Great Hall, just in case our two best friends showed up late. It was no good. They were nowhere to be found. Dejectedly, we headed up to the Gryffindor common room, exhausted and prepared for a good night's sleep before classes. And suddenly…there they were. Two figures, a black haired and a red haired, stood outside the common room entrance, appearing confused and worried. Together, Hermione and I heaved a huge sigh of relief and we raced towards Harry and Ron.

"_There _you are!" Hermione exclaimed. The boys turned, relief evident on their expressions as well.

"_Where in the world did you go_?" I scolded them. "You were, like, right behind me and then…nowhere to be seen!"

"We heard the most _ridiculous_ rumors! We heard that you had gotten expelled from crashing a flying car—"Hermione said. I picked up immediately on the guilt etched in Harry and Ron's faces. My dark brown eyes widened.

"Oh my god—the car. You _did_ fly here," I stated. They both reluctantly nodded.

"We haven't been expelled though," Harry cut in. My expression lightened instantly.

"Oh, well it's all good then," I said brightly, grinning prettily. Hermione shot an incredulous glance at me.

"It is _not_ 'all good then'; you two _flew_ here!"

Ron groaned. "Just tell us the new password."

Hermione frowned. "It's 'wattlebird', but that's not the point—"

Nearly everyone in Gryffindor was still awake and lounging in the common room. They jumped up when the entrance opened, and began to clap and cheer. Several arms embraced Harry and Ron, congratulating on a job well done. I couldn't help the giggles that burst from my mouth at their surprised but flattered appearance. I turned to meet Hermione's scowl.

"Oh, lighten _up_!" I scolded her, smiling. "It's not even the first day and you're already on their cases!"

"My point exactly. It's the _first day_ and they've already almost gotten expelled!" she scoffed. I continued to beam.

"Whatev, I'm going to bed. Have fun being Miss Grumpy down here."

I bit Harry and Ron and the rest of my friends (including their three roommates Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan) goodnight and stomped upstairs to the second year girls' dormitory. I smiled once more once I fell onto the familiar bed, breathing in the fresh sheets.

It was good to be back home.

~o~

**Hope you all liked! And a very happy birthday to my baby Lydia! ****3**

**~CaptJess :)**


	5. The Reign of Lockhart

**I KNOW, I'M SO SORRY! For anyone actually still reading this story, I am **_**so**_** sorry for the wait! I guess I just lost interest in writing for a while. I just finished up my junior year so I was trying my best to focus on school. Plus I managed to get into about 20 new fandoms, so I guess this story was just temporarily pushed aside. But I'm on summer break at the moment and I will try my absolute best to get back into this story. I swear I'm not giving up on it!**

**But I actually still get so many follows on this story so I really hope you guys are still with me! Thanks to all and I love you guys so much! Muah!**

**Also, this is pathetically short so I'm sorry about that too!**

**~o~**

**Chapter 5  
>The Reign of Lockhart<strong>

Hermione and I arrived at breakfast before the boys did. I wasted no time at all in digging into the food with the fantastic aroma. Hermione, as usual, had her nose buried in a book (one of Lockhart's, to make matters worse) and barely touched her morning meal. When Harry and Ron had finally joined us, she only gave them a stiff greeting, not even looking up. "Be nice," I chided her.

Neville, seated next to me, reminded us of the mail set to arrive in just moments. "I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot." I smirked gently.

"What have you forgotten this year?" I teased.

"Not that much….at least, I don't think I have…"

I smiled, shaking my head, and gulping down a huge spoonful of porridge. Sure enough, the mail came swooping in, carried by owls of all shapes and sizes and colours. Brown and white packages were dropped from the air like rain from the sky, and the owls left right after—all except one.

The Weasley's family owl, an old grey lump named Errol, crashed right into Hermione's jug, creating disarray on our portion of the Gryffindor table—for the second year in a row. Ron grumbled, removing a damp red letter from under the now unconscious owl. He let out a gasp at the sight of the letter and nearly dropped it.

"Oh no—"he started, horrified. I was puzzled of what caused him to be so afraid. I looked over only to find Neville gazing at the letter with terror as well.

"What's wrong?" Harry voiced mine and Hermione's thoughts.

"She's—she's send me a Howler," Ron replied, his voice shaking.

"A Howler?" I repeated, one of my eyebrows rose. I was met with no explanation. Ron's complete focus was on the letter in his hands. Harry and Hermione seemed to be just as confused as me.

"Just open it," Neville said worriedly. "It's worse if you ignore it…"

Ron fearfully and slowly worked the letter open. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting. But the letter coming to life and shouting at my friend in the form of his mother's deafening voice was definitely not it. My mouth dropped right open.

"_RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTLEY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT! IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!" _

My friends and I watched as the Howler shockingly ripped itself apart and the pieces scattered over the table like confetti. We heard a few giggles from around the Hall and eventually the normal chatter returned, each table going back to their conversations.

"I think I know what a Howler is now…" I said after a moment of silence between us. I saw Harry push his porridge away, looking awfully guilty. I nudged him slightly from under the table. "Hey. Not your fault. Don't." He didn't look convinced.

"Don't tell me I deserved it," Ron snapped at Hermione, who was giving him a look that obviously said 'I told you so'. I rolled my eyes at her. I loved the girl, but she could be really obnoxious.

Our course schedules were passed out soon after and together, my friends and I headed to our first class at the end of breakfast. The Gryffindors had Herbology with Hufflepuffs first, located in the greenhouse outside of the castle. Most of the class was already there when we arrived, and Professor Sprout followed almost immediately after. I scowled when I saw Gilderoy Lockhart alongside her. Just the mere sight of his face filled me with rage.

"Oh hello there!" Lockhart called out to us. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow—"I scoffed and directed my attention away from him as he gloated on. Hermione was unsurprisingly fawning over him and holding onto his every word. I nudged her sharply and in turn she stomped on my foot.

"Greenhouse three today, chaps," Sprout grumbled, cutting off Lockhart's arrogant speech. The class perked up in interest. Greenhouse three was full of much more dangerous, but interesting, plants than those we had worked with last year. Though I wasn't _amazing_ at Herbology, I was rather excited for this lesson to begin!

"You don't mind if Harry's a couple minutes late, do you, Professor? I'd like to speak to him," Lockhart boomed. I rolled my eyes. Of course he would. He didn't wait for Sprout's answer and he shut the greenhouse door on her face. Professor Sprout stomped to the front, mumbling under her breath, obviously disgruntled.

On the long single table inside the greenhouse were about twenty different pairs of earmuffs, many of them pink and fluffy, as well as several large plant pots. Ron, Hermione and I took three of the spots in the middle, leaving a spot open for Harry. I wondered what Lockhart would want with Harry. Clearly, I was extremely overly protective of my best friend, and I despised that Lockhart with everything I had.

Harry stumbled in a few minutes later, taking the empty spot beside me. I raised a questioning eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head, looking very annoyed. I didn't blame him. Professor Sprout finally began class, explaining that we were repotting something called a Mandrake. Hermione, as always, was the first to raise her hand and of course, was the only one who actually knew what they were.

Professor Sprout instructed us to put on a pair of the earmuffs when she was about to pull one of the Mandrakes from its place in the ground. I immediately understood why the earmuffs were needed. Connected to the plant was a muddy baby, who was clearly wailing as loud as possible. Sprout reburied the Mandrake in a separate pot until only the leaves were visible.

"Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings their cries won't kill you yet. But they could knock you out for several hours, so make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. Four to a tray!" Sprout explained, and showed us where all the supplies were located. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were quick to team up.

We gathered our supplies and began to work, with Harry filling the pots with the dragon dung compost. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed one of the Hufflepuff girls staring at me. I glanced up to check if it was really me she was gawking at. It was. I tried to ignore her as I worked with my friends, but eventually my temper sparked and I faced the girl.

"Do you need something, or…?" I asked, not bothering with a decent tone. The girl merely shook her head and scoffed, seeming almost amused. "_What_?"

"So," the girl spoke up, looking back up at me, "I wonder how long it's going to take then."

I crossed my arms defensively. "Care to elaborate or are you just gonna become a walking riddle?"

"Well I hear you harassed Professor Lockhart," she went on. My stomach dropped. This is what I had been waiting for. Some brainwashed kid to buy into the news article about me. To believe I'm dangerous.

"She didn't _harass _him," Harry interrupted loudly, quick to defend me. I was almost relieved.

The girl ignored him. "I just wonder how long it's going to take before the dangerous criminal gets expelled. Or maybe even arrested." My hair flared bright red, but before my big mouth and temper could get me in trouble, a small Hufflepuff boy in her group stepped in.

"Leave her alone, Hannah," he said calmly, pushing her aside. Hannah's amused smirk dropped, but she did as he said. She stepped away from our group and returned to her group.

"Sorry about her," the boy said. I gave him a small, grateful smile. "I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley," he introduced brightly, holding out a hand. One by one, my friends and I shook it. "You're Lydia Black, of course. Don't worry; I don't believe the papers usually. And I know who you are, of course. The famous Harry Potter…and you are Hermione Granger—always top in everything. And Ron Weasley—wasn't that your flying car?"

I snorted. Ron started to look sick, obviously remembering the Howler from this morning. Justin rambled on as he worked, chatting our ears off about Lockhart and his family who seemed to be Muggles by the way he was explaining them. I couldn't complain about him though. He did seem to be decent and he _did_ defend me. However, we had to interrupt him by putting on our earmuffs for the lesson.

The lesson passed by slowly and it was much more difficult than I thought it'd be. Those Mandrakes were tremendously stubborn! The Gryffindors had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall next and we all took a break in between classes in order to wash the dirt and sweat from ourselves.

Professor McGonagall was one of the strictest teachers at Hogwarts, but she was definitely my favourite. Her class was rather difficult and it took some concentration in order to accurately understand the lesson, but I actually really enjoyed Transfiguration because of her. I was never too keen on studying, but school tending to come a bit naturally to me. Of course, not _every _subject, but most I was fairly decent at. McGonagall always taught this class particularly well, also.

Lunch was after Transfiguration and we were all grateful for the break. We filled our stomachs once again and headed out to the courtyard. Not caring about the dirt, I plopped right down on the ground, spreading out comfortably. I must have gotten in at least ten peoples' way, but I really didn't care.

"Oh, h-hi Harry!" A voice above me stammered. I peaked one eye open. A young boy—clearly a first year—stood close to Harry, clutching a Muggle camera in his small hands. "I'm Colin Creevey; I'm a Gryffindor too! Would you—would it be okay if I—took a picture?" I had to purse my lips to stop the chuckle that wanted to escape at the sight of Harry's dumbfounded expression.

"So I can prove I've met you," Colin continued excitedly. He went on and on about the pictures moving and his father the milkman. I could feel myself getting a headache. First Justin and now this boy. "Maybe I could stand next to you and one of your friends could take it—"

"Harry, _please_ just take a picture with the kid," I spoke up, desperately wanting to avoid the oncoming headache. It was only my first day!

"Oh! And you're Lydia Black! I've heard all about you too—"the boy started eagerly.

"Ah yes, what's been your favorite part? Hearing my father the murderer's story? How many detentions I've gotten? Or perhaps the new favourite, how I verbally attacked Lockhart at Flourish and Blotts?" I interrupted bitterly. I still wasn't over the confrontation with the Hufflepuff girl this morning.

"Actually, I heard that you helped saved the school last year! And that you grew up with Harry!" Colin countered. I looked up in surprise. "Actually maybe I could get a picture with both of you! And then, maybe you could sign it?" I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

But my astonishment was halted by the crude voice of possibly the person I hated most in this world. "_Signed photos?_ You're giving out _signed photos, _Potter?"

"He's _not_ signing or—photo-ing anything, Malfoy," I growled. As I should have expected, my obnoxious cousin ignored me.

"Harry Potter's giving out signed photos—everyone line up!" he called to the courtyard. Harry clenched his fists. I was already ready to punch Malfoy in his annoying little face.

"Shut _up_, Malfoy," Harry snapped. Of course, Colin stepped in, clearly underestimating his size and intimidation-factor.

"You're just jealous," the boy said.

Malfoy scoffed. "Jealous? Of what? I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, thanks." Trying desperately to calm my temper, I sat up from the ground and smirked at Malfoy.

"You know what; I think Colin's right, Malfoy. I think you are jealous!" I sneered. Malfoy was unsurprisingly unaffected.

"Oh please. Having my name all over the papers? I rather not," he said. "Oh, I guess that's another thing you and Potter have in common, Black. It's a right good thing the Prophet warned everyone about you. You're bound to go rogue any time soon." I growled, the noise relating to that of an angry dog.

"Eat slugs, Malfoy," Ron said.

"I bet Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter. It'd probably be worth more than his family's whole house—"

Ron beat me to it, and pulled out his Stellotaped wand angrily. But Hermione quickly pushed it back down, gesturing towards Professor Lockhart, who was now strolling his way towards the crowd. "Who's giving out signed photos?" he said.

"Bloody hell, _really_?" I snarled, quietly enough so that only my friends heard me. Lockhart stalked straight up to Harry, proudly throwing an arm around his shoulder. He posed for Colin to take his picture, forcing a humiliated Harry into the mix. Luckily, the afternoon bell rang only seconds afterward. But unfortunately, Defense Against the Dark Arts was next. We were stuck with the moron all afternoon.

Lockhart dragged Harry off in front of us and Ron, Hermione and I were left to head to class without him. Hermione dreamily watched him walk away, and Ron and I shared a disgusted glance. "Well, we better hurry! Can't be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Hermione ushered rather cheerfully.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" I exclaimed sarcastically.

"Except maybe to watch grass grow," Ron grumbled. I snorted in agreement. Hermione was already feet ahead of us, clearly ignoring our negativity. Harry arrived at the classroom before the rest of the class and he fortunately took a seat at the very back. I plopped down next to him and Ron and Hermione took the two seats in front of us.

"You'd better hope Colin doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club," Ron joked, swiveling around in his seat. Harry shrunk even lower in his, almost trying to hide from Lockhart.

"Me!" Lockhart began. _Oh brother_. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award—but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

I let out a large sigh and dropped my head in my hands. Lockhart droned on, eventually getting on with class and passing out a quiz. I was expecting something at least worthwhile; something like a pre-test to what we would be learning this year. _Wrong_. The quiz was entirely about him! Ridiculous questions like what his favourite colour was and his greatest achievement.

I was going to fail this quiz anyway, so I might as well make the answers amusing. Lockhart collected the papers and began to scan through them all right there in class. He frowned. "I must say I'm disappointed in most of you—hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in _Year with a Yeti._ And a few of you need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves_ a little more carefully—I clearly state that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples—though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!" He winked.

Hermione, as well as a few of the other girls, was once again, hanging on every word. But most of the rest of the class were staring in disbelief. Seamus and Dean were shaking in silent laughter. I had both eyebrows raised, and if I didn't know better, I would have walked out of class already.

"As for Miss Black's paper, I'm sorry to say I'm going to have to take 5 points from Gryffindor for some of the answers on here. A little more effort is needed for this class, my dear girl," he said. I heard a few of my classmates groan in frustration, but I made no reaction whatsoever. On a second thought, Lockhart said, "And I would like to make it clear, I did not pay anyone to get into this fine school." His eyes reluctant twinkled as he tried to flash me a charming smile. Seamus and Dean tried rather badly to hold in their snorts of laughter.

As Dean looked back at me, giving me a look of amusement, I whispered, "Worth it." Hermione turned to glare at me, but jumped when she heard her name.

"Only Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions—good girl! Full marks! And ten points to Gryffindor!" he beamed. "It's a good thing Miss Granger saved you that trouble Miss Black!" My hair sparked red as I glared at the arrogant idiot.

"Now—be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizard kind. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart instructed. Though he wasn't very intimidating, most of the class had stopped to actually pay attention by now, hoping for at least something worth their time. Lockhart placed his hand on top of a shaking cage, getting ready to pull off the cover.

When he did, Seamus couldn't help the snort of laughter. Inside were about fifteen tiny blue creatures with shrill voices and pointed faces. "_Cornish pixies_? They're—they're not very _dangerous _are they?" Seamus choked out.

"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart countered. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be! Let's see what you can make of them!" Without warning, he released the lock to the cage.

The pixies were like little rockets, and they buzzed off in every direction, creating chaos in their paths. They ripped pages out of books, knocked over rows of glasses and sprayed ink bottles. They even grabbed poor Neville and hung him on the chandelier.

"Come on now! Round them up, they're only pixies!" Lockhart called from the stairs. "_Peskipiksi pesternomi!_" The pixies seized his wand and through it out the window. The bell had rung, signaling the end of class, and Lockhart immediately rushed out the door with the rest of the class.

"_You've got to be kidding me_!" I shouted. "_What a bloody idiot!_"

Only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and I were left in the classroom along with the rambunctious pixies who continued to wreck the room. Hermione fortunately knew a clever Freezing Charm that allowed her to stuff them back into their cage. I had just resorted to swiping at them with books, letting my Beater skills to the work.

"Can you _believe _him_?_" Ron added in.

"He just wanted to give us some hands on experience," Hermione said defensively. I could have slapped her.

"Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing!" Harry cried.

"Rubbish, look at all the amazing things he's done!"

Ron, Harry and I could only shake our heads in exasperation as Hermione rounded up the last of the pixies and shut the cage securely.

"Why is it always me?" Neville said miserably from where he was still hanging from the ceiling chandelier.

**~o~**

**I have a tendency to mix the books and movies—best of both worlds!**

**But really guys, thank you. I really hoped you liked and you're not mad at me! :)**


	6. The Worst Birthday

**Lydia Black is finally off hiatus! Yayyyyy! Wow, jeez guys, I'm SO sorry! I know a lot of people are reading this and following this story faithfully, and even though I haven't updated in almost a year, I still get almost consistent alerts for this story! I am honored, truly.**

**In all honesty, what happened was that I got into A TON of other fandoms. Like, a lot. And (don't get me wrong, Harry Potter is my first love and will forever be my true love) I just became more interested in those fandoms than Harry Potter. Especially Supernatural. I was also in my senior year of high school and was doing my best to concentrate, and graduate… which I did! Then yesterday, I was sitting here thinking about Lydia for the first time in a while. And I just realized how much I missed her and how much I wanted to tell her story. Thus, this chapter was finally written!**

**Speaking of my other fandoms though—are there any Supernatural fans that read this? If so, you should check out my Supernatural story (yes, I'm self-promoting, sue me)! I've spent the past 10 months selling my soul (haha, SPN joke) to that story and my OC, Lucy Winchester. Lucy has become just as dear to me as Lydia is, and that story means so much to me. It currently has 28 chapters and over 130,000 words—yeah, like I said, I sold my soul to it. So check it out! :)**

**And finally, the next chapter in Lydia's story:**

**~o~**

**Chapter 6  
>The Worst Birthday<strong>

Being roughly shaken awake at the crack of dawn wasn't exactly how I wanted to kick off the day of my 12th birthday. I didn't even acknowledge the hands on my shoulders at first, my mind electing to ignore them in favor of beautiful sleep. But soon, a voice started to hiss into my ear, "Lydia, come on, wake up please! Oliver will throw a riot if not all the team is there!"

I groaned and rolled over onto my back. My hair was a rat's nest and all over my face, but I could just barely see Angelina Johnson's tired and slightly exasperated expression through the thick, black locks. "_What_?" I whined, though the word sounded more like another groan.

"Wood's called an early first Quidditch practice," Angelina said resentfully in a hushed tone as to not wake the other three sleeping girls in my dormitory. She looked just as exhausted as I felt. "It's our '_new training program_' that he thinks will miraculously give us a head start. Bloody outrageous if you ask me, being up at this time in the morning."

I was going to kill Oliver Wood. "You've got to be kidding me!" I complained, burying my head under the wonderfully comfortable sheets. Angelina sighed, and yanked them off in a swift motion.

"I don't like it anymore than you do. But would you rather have an early morning, or an angry Oliver?"

That got me up and moving, though rather unenthusiastically. Five minutes later when I was dressed in my Quidditch robes and had my Nimbus Two Thousand hauled over my shoulder, Angelina and I scrambled out of the Gryffindor tower and to the large field that laid just outside the castle. Inside the changing rooms were almost all of my exhausted teammates, excluding Harry. I glared daggers at Wood as he greeted me. Oliver was unfazed, his excitement drowning out my grumpiness. I plopped down between Fred and George. George almost immediately fell asleep on my shoulder.

Harry showed up nearly ten minutes later, droopy-eyed and with tousled hair. "There you are, Harry, what kept you?" Wood said in an almost scolding matter. Harry promptly ignored him, taking a seat next to George. He flashed me as much as a smile as he could muster.

"Happy birthday," Harry mumbled. I grinned at him, despite my crabby mood at being woken up so early.

"Thanks," I replied. Fred suddenly shoved me, pushing me into his twin brother. "_Ow_!" I protested, even though it didn't hurt.

"You didn't tell us!" George cried, pretending to be offended. I merely let my head droop onto his shoulder, closing my eyes.

"Too tired…"

"Alright, listen up team!" Oliver called, clapping loudly to get our attention. All six of us team members jumped and stirred, trying to pretend like we were awake. "I wanted a quick talk with you before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I think will make all the difference…"

I barely paid any attention, too tired to take in all the information, instead opting to sleep on George's shoulder. Harry stared at nothing, not bothering to listen either. Fred and George fell asleep, both snoring softly. Katie Bell and Angelina actually managed to stare at Oliver as he droned on and on, but it was clear that they too weren't really hearing any of his words. Wood must have talked for an hour, explaining every last detail of his new strategies.

Finally, Wood finished. "Is that clear? Any questions?" he asked. George wearily raised his hand half way.

"Yeah, why couldn't you have told us all of this yesterday when we were awake?"

I snorted, burying my head into my friend's shoulder to disguise my giggles. Oliver's eyes narrowed. "Now, listen up, you lot," he said irritably. "We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team in the school. But unfortunately due to circumstances beyond our control…" Oliver trailed off, recalling our dreadful defeat in last year's final game. Harry was in the hospital wing and unable to play. "…This year, we train harder than ever before… Okay, let's go put our new theories to practice!" Wood ended enthusiastically.

"Oliver, can't I go?" I moaned. I really didn't want to have to do work of any sort on my own birthday. "It's my birthday."

Oliver lost none of his eagerness, turning to smile at me as he gathered his broomstick and our Quidditch supplies. "Well, then consider our victory of the Quidditch cup this year a late present from me!" he said excitedly, bounding out the door to the locker room.

"I hate you," I grumbled, though he was out of hearing range. Gruffly, I grabbed my own broomstick and followed my teammates out the door, stomping roughly on the grass behind them. The sun had risen over the horizon now and up in the stands sat Ron and Hermione. My stomach rumbled when I noticed the food they had carried with them out of the Great Hall. I heard them loudly wish me a happy birthday from where they sat, but I merely met them with a desperate pout. Colin Creevey had decided to attend today's surprise practice as well. I watched as he cried out for Harry's attention and clicked away at his favorite camera. He was Harry's own personal little stalker. As if he needed one of those with Lockhart hanging around.

Though I wasn't initially thrilled about having to practice this early in the morning—practice at all, actually—I cheered up a little when we finally stepped onto the field. Ah, now _this _is what it felt like to be home. One of the things I had missed the most while spending a magic-less summer with the Dursleys was flying. Just being up in the cool air and letting the wind rush through my hair—and venting a portion of my anger issues as I smacked the dark red, heavy Bludger at another person with my trusty bat. Honestly, nothing felt better.

I caught the end bit of my friends' conversation as I strolled up to them. "…Because they're here in person," George said, pointing at something down the field. I followed his gaze and groaned in exasperation. Oh, come on, _really_. The last thing I wanted to deal with this morning was Slytherins. Yet, there they were. The seven members of the Slytherin Quidditch team, approaching us with broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed. He marched up to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flirt, pure rage on his face. "We booked the field for today! This is our practice time! Clear off!"

Flint smirked, his troll-like features looking superior. "But _I've_ got a specifically signed note from Professor Snape. '_I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'_." New Seeker? Oh please. Was _that _their excuse?

"You've got a new Seeker? Who?" Oliver asked, his voice showing clear skepticism. On cue, the impish smug face and bright blonde hair of Draco Malfoy became visible as he emerged from behind the six much larger players. As if the day couldn't get any worse…

"_Malfoy_?" Harry questioned in disbelief. I groaned loudly, making my point clear.

"That's right," Malfoy replied haughtily. "And that's not all that's new this year thanks to my father." In unison, my team and I all noticed the broomsticks they held in their greedy hands. They were all obviously brand new, having polished wood that shone in the sunlight and bright, glittering gold letters that read _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_. I couldn't believe my eyes. Lucius stinking Malfoy had bought the whole Slytherin team the latest broomstick, a beautiful innovation of the old Nimbus Two Thousands.

Flint took note of the desire and shock in all of our eyes, sending an ugly smirk at us and glancing at Malfoy proudly. "Very latest model. Just came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. Sweeps the board right off the Cleansweeps."

I hid my shock with a disgusted scoff, crossing my arms defensively. "Well it's good to know players can buy their way in then. Bet you are even that good!" I said. Draco's smirk lowered into a scowl.

"I've been playing since I could walk!" he retorted, glancing down at me distastefully. "At least I didn't get in on luck—like you."

I merely laughed sarcastically. "Says the person who had 'been gripping the broom wrong for years.'" In our first flying lesson last year, the flying coach, Madam Hooch, had informed Malfoy that basically every way he handled the broom was horribly incorrect. I was delighted!

"Hooch is an unreasonable amateur who had no idea what she was talking about. Just look at you—she said yours was perfect. That's a riot."

I laughed again, this time actually finding his comment amusing. Did he even realize who he was talking to? "Uh, _youngest Beater of the century!" _I emphasized, gesturing to myself by moving my finger in a circle. Malfoy's eyes narrowed and he looked like he was thinking of something to respond with, but just in time Ron and Hermione came into view, crossing the field to where the two teams were standing.

"What's going on? Why aren't you playing? And why's _he _here?" Ron demanded, looking judgmentally at Malfoy.

Malfoy answered for us. "I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley. Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father bought our team." Ron's jaw dropped when he took in the shining new brooms, and Malfoy chuckled at his slack-jawed expression. "Good, aren't they? Maybe the Gryffindor team can raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could rattle off those Cleansweeps—I bet a museum would bid for them."

I growled as the Slytherin team laughed. Hermione stepped forward, her head held high. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in! _They_ got in on pure talent!" she defended. I felt a surge of pride and affection for her, and I allowed myself to smile at my friend. But Malfoy turned to her, cruel and spiteful.

"No one asked your opinion!" he spat. "Filthy little Mudblood."

There it was. That _word _again. I hadn't the slightest clue what it meant, but it wasn't the first time I've heard Malfoy use it. At the very end of last year when all of Hogwarts' students were hustling onto the train home, Malfoy had stopped me, blabbering on about stuff that was supposed to insult or intimidate me—but then he had revealed our family relation to each other, and told me I was half-blood because of my "Mudblood mother". I hadn't originally known it had been a bad word. But judging by the reaction that followed when Malfoy uttered it this time, I could probably infer that it was pretty bad.

My whole team, save for Harry and me, went berserk. Angelina and Katie began to scream at him, barely holding themselves back from charging at the young Slytherin. Fred and George didn't hold back—the only thing that stood between the twins and Malfoy was a large Flint, pushing them back to protect his young teammate. Oliver made no move or sound, but he looked beyond himself in rage, breathing in harsh puffs and clenching his fists tightly. Harry and I exchanged a look, utterly perplexed.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron shouted, and pointed his broken wand at the blonde boy. "_Eat slugs!_"

Green light sparked from the end of Ron's wand, but not the end that he had intended. The light hit him in the stomach and Ron was sent flying backwards. He landed with a rough _thud_ onto his back. "_Ron!_" my friends and I cried, all rushing towards him. The Slytherins howled with laughter, making me extraordinarily angry. On a second thought, I stepped back, whipping rapidly around. I took Flint off guard, and with no one to guard him, I reeled back my fist and punched Malfoy square in the face. Malfoy yelped in pain, clutching his bleeding nose. Flint lunged at me, but Oliver was quick to dart out in front of him and harshly shoved him back.

"I don't know what that word means, but you deserved that one, you bloody git!" I snapped at my cousin. He groaned in pain, rolling around on the grass, holding his hand over his nose. I felt a rush of pleasure. I finally did it—I finally punched Malfoy! I'd been wanting to do that since the moment I'd met him! Without a second thought, I marched over to my friends, fearing the worst. I arrived just in time to see Ron heave out a helping of slimy slugs. They joined the others already in front of Ron, who was held up by Harry and Hermione. Colin stood to the side, snapping picture after picture on his camera. I was tempted to punch the annoying kid as well.

"We're taking him to Hagrid," Harry informed me. I nodded, proceeding to stand in back of Ron as they walked, rubbing his back soothingly. Harry and Hermione held him up, rushing as fast as Ron would allow them. I felt awful for my friend. Those slugs looked awfully revolting! I really wished I could hit Malfoy again, oh it felt _so_ good the first time!

After we arrived at Hagrid's tiny little hut placed at the edge of the Forbidden Forrest and knocked urgently at the door, Hagrid welcomed us in cheerfully. He was barely fazed at the large slugs that dribbled out of Ron's mouth every minute or so. "Better out than in!" he insisted, handing Ron a large wooden bucket, which the redhead clung to gratefully. "Don' think there's anythin' ter do but wait fer it to stop."

"That's a difficult curse at normal times, but with a broken wand…" Hermione noted. Like Harry and me, she wasn't aware of the meaning behind the name Malfoy had called her, and was just as curious to find out. We didn't tell him right away, however, and watched as he bustled around the room, preparing us all a cup of tea and grumbling about Lockhart.

"He was in here earlier," Hagrid said gruffly. "Jus' 'fore you four showed up actually. Tried to give me advice on getting' kelpies out of a well, I know how ter do that! I don' believe a single word that man says. Unfortunately, he was the on'y man for the job. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone willin' ter take the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now." We listened patiently as he babbled on. Finally, he turned to Ron. "Who were you tryin' ter curse?" he asked.

"Malfoy called Hermione something," Harry answered for Ron, who was in the process of coughing out another slug. "I don't think any of us except for Ron really know what it means. But it must have been really bad because everybody went wild."

"I punched him," I smirked. "Even though I don't know what it meant."

Hagrid beamed. "Did you really? Well, good fer you!"

"Good thing you did too," Ron managed to utter. His voice was slightly mumbled, due to his head being stuck in the bucket. "It _was_ bad, what he said. He called her a 'Mudblood', Hagrid."

Hagrid's face dropped in fury. "He did not!" he growled. I nodded.

"He did," I confirmed. "He said it to me a while back too. Not aimed at me!" I added the last bit when Hagrid looked ready to explode. "But he… he called my mum that. I wasn't really sure what it meant so I just… let it go, I guess."

Hagrid was livid, but he was trying to contain his anger for our sakes. I briefly wondered if he ever knew my mother. It would explain why he was appalled at the thought of someone calling her a Mudblood. "It's obviously really rude, it seems," Hermione commented. Hagrid nodded.

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron said, emerging from his bucket. I was still rubbing his back, hoping that it would help get all those slugs out. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone with non-magic parents, like Hermione and your mum, Lydia. Some wizards, like Malfoy's family, think they're better than everyone else because they're Pureblood. It's not like it makes any difference at all, the rest of us know that. Look at Neville Longbottom—he's Pureblood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"Dirty blood," Hagrid spat, rolling his eyes. "It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood o' less. If wizards hadn' married Muggles, we would've died out!" He was absolutely right. The whole concept _was _ridiculous! It was like hating someone for their skin color. It made no sense! I didn't understand how anyone could possibly think that way! "An' they haven' invented a spell our Hermione can' do," he added proudly. Hermione offered a small smile in return, flushing bright red.

After an hour or so at Hagrid's, Ron's slug problem finally started to clear up. In the time, we chatted away with Hagrid, our depressing conversation shifting to a much lighter, cheerful one. We talked about the enormous pumpkins Hagrid had been growing. It was fairly obvious that he had been using a bit of forbidden magical help to grow them (he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, and Harry and me suspected that his pink umbrella he carried around contained bits of his old wand—but we could never prove it). Ginny was brought up, as well as her fondness of Harry. And finally, we shared a bit about our lessons and Hagrid wished me happy birthday.

We left when Ron felt completely better, and walked to the castle together. The four of us almost ran into Professor McGonagall when we entered the hall. "There you are, Potter, Weasley!" she called out. I desperately hoped that none of us were in trouble for this morning. How unfair would that be! "You will both do your detentions this evening," she told them sternly.

My heart dropped. I was wrong. This day could get worse. "But Professor! It's my birthday!" I protested, disheartened. "You can't take two of my best friends away from me on my birthday!" McGonagall turned to me, unconcerned and firm.

"I'm sorry, Miss Black. I can and I will," she said. I held back a groan, and a few frustrated tears starting to build up behind my eyes. I couldn't _believe _this! She turned back to address Harry and Ron. "You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch, Weasley. And no magic—elbow grease! And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

I instantly felt awful for both of my friends, but especially Harry. That was rough. "Can't I go to the trophy room too?" Harry said, nearly begging. I almost wanted to beg for him. Anything but Lockhart.

"Certainly not. Lockhart requested you specifically. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you." She turned to leave, but returned on a second thought. "Oh and Black, I am supposed to give you detention as well for the incident that happened this morning resulting in Draco Malfoy's broken nose."

This time tears really did come to the surface. "B-but! Professor! You should have heard what he said!" I screeched frantically.

"It's true, Professor! She was completely justified!" Hermione broke in, quick to defend me.

"I can't seriously get in trouble for _that_—"

"_However_," McGonagall interrupted pointedly, indicating that I hadn't let her finish her thought, "it was thoroughly explained to me and I believe that in this situation, no detention shall be required." I breathed a sigh of relief. As McGonagall started to leave, she crouched down slightly to my level and whispered into my ear, "Nice work, Black." I beamed at her as she left.

And _this _is why she was my favorite Professor.

~o~

Later that evening, after dinner had been served and most of the school had retreated to their common rooms, I sat at the Gryffindor table, outright miserable. This had turned out to be the worst birthday ever. Two of my best friends had been granted and whisked away to detention, my other best friend elected to leave me to go study (it was the first week, what could she _possibly_ be studying!) and the rest of my friends were nowhere to be found. And so here I was, my chin resting in the palm of my hand as I toyed with my gleaming necklace absentmindedly. I had absolutely nothing to do other than make myself even sadder.

I guess I couldn't be angry with my friends… at least not Harry and Ron. They had no choice but to serve detention today. But the others, why hadn't they done anything? I wasn't trying to seem like I was entitled to something from them, which was not what I thought at all, but I would at least like to spend the rest of my birthday with the people I enjoyed spending time with. Was that so wrong?

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and I spun around to see who it was. My cousin, Jason, was smiling down at me. I tried to smile back, but the corners of my mouth barely budged. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. "What are you doing out here?" he questioned lightly. His unique American accent always took me off guard.

"Because I _love _sitting around by myself and sulking in empty rooms, wasn't it obvious?" I replied sarcastically, trying to sound lighthearted. It came out a bit harsher than I intended. "It's not like I've got anything else to do."

"Well, come on, then," he said, pulling me to my feet. "I have something to cheer you up!"

I actually managed a real smile then. "What?" I asked curiously.

"You'll see!"

I followed him to the Gryffindor common room, staying close to his side. It was slightly hard to keep up with him considering he was so much taller and his legs were a lot longer than mine. But I managed. He recited the password to the Fat Lady who guarded the Gryffindor tower entrance, and the portrait swung open, revealing a truly wonderful sight.

The common room was filled with many of my friends, and even some people who I didn't know. I spotted Hermione; Fred, George and Ginny Weasley; Neville, Seamus and Dean; Katie, Angelina and Oliver; even Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, mine and Hermione's other two roommates, showed up, despite them not being overly fond of me. Every single one of them beamed at me as I walked in, shouting, "Happy birthday!" There were a few decorations scattered here and there, most notably some mini fireworks that Fred and George created and a big, red and gold banner that read 'Happy birthday, Lydia' and had moving confetti on it.

I was truly touched. "This is _excellent_!" I cried, grinning from ear to ear, and whirling around to face my cousin. He gave me his signature lopsided smile and shrugged.

"I heard about what happened this morning, with the practice and the Slytherins," Jason explained. "I wanted to make your birthday a little less—well—shitty." I chuckled happily, pulling him into a tight embrace. So far, it seems as if he was the only member of my family that I could really count on.

I spent the rest of the evening with my fellow Gryffindors, and my closest friends. Some of them had even gotten me _presents_, which I hadn't been suspecting at all! Jason got me some more memorabilia from his favorite Quidditch team, the Fitchburg Finches, like he had done so for last Christmas. He also reluctantly handed to me a sweater of the Kenmare Kestrels that his mother had instructed him to gift. Fred and George gave me some of their latest joke inventions, while Ginny presented me with a hairclip that changed color with my moods. Hey, almost like my hair did! And Hermione got me a big box of chocolates, presented alongside a card.

"You little liar!" I said to her when she came up to give it to me, but my tone with lighthearted and said with a bright smile. "Studying," I scoffed.

"At least I knew you'd believe it," she smiled. I had to laugh at that.

And so, despite its rather dreadful beginning, my birthday ended up being fantastic.

**~o~**

**Yay, she's back! :)**


End file.
